Proving Your Worth
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: AU Chase makes a medical decision that has some devastating consequences forcing House to come to his aide just as things turn their darkest. However, to the surprise of both of them a new bond starts to form. But a new enemy from that mistake resurfaces threatening both their futures. CHAP 18 UP NOW
1. Choices - and

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 1 – Choices…and…**

 **Summary:** **AU** Chase makes a medical decision that has some devastating consequences forcing House to come to his aide just as things turn their darkest. However, to the surprise of both of them a new bond starts to form. But a new enemy from that mistake resurfaces threatening both their futures. Based off eppy 6.04 The Tyrant

 **Disclaimer:** House MD and its characters are not mine any of the OC's are mine (names taken from a random name generator) any resemblance to any of my readers is by pure coincidence.

 **A/N:** WE'RE BACK! Sorry for the long delay in posting a new story but you can thank real life and a new job with more work (ugh sadly same pay lol typical right?-so I'll do my best to regularly update!) so its taken us a bit longer than wanted but I hope my dear readers are back with us and enjoy this new adventure. It's going to revolve around the start of the Dibala storyline (Eppy 6.04) but without all the Chameron stuff b/c I couldn't stand them as anything more than co-workers and since this is AU I'm going to make my own storyline instead of following canon eppies going forward and hope that's okay. It will of course focus on my fave – the House/Chase father/son relationship and how that is slowly going to build around this medical debacle. I'll toss in a few OC's (and of course lots of house/Wilson) along the way and of course lots of angst/whump/hurt/comfort/familial emotions and some danger. So hope you all enjoy the start to this and thanks so much!

 **NOTE:** Just for this chapter _"words in double quotes and italics"_ are from the actual eppy 6.04 – going forward they'll be the same as my other stories, on the phone. _'words in single quotes are past conversations' and no quotes are thoughts._

* * *

 _This is so…wrong somehow…he should be here,_ Chase's mind ponders as he stands in House's silent office, staring at the empty chair and feeling an odd sense of despair starting to grow in his stomach. The last few months, his superior had become withdrawn and emotionally disconnected from those around him – even more so than usual. However, none of them had expected him to take the next step and that was checking himself in for some medical and psychological treatment. Would it help? Only time would tell. But for them…time was about to run out. House was on his way back.

Foreman had used personal reasons to fire Thirteen and Taub had up and quit…the team as he had come to know and call his somewhat dysfunctional family was crumbling – literally. With just Cameron left on the once flourishing diagnostic team, he wonders how they'll continue to solve the types of cases they do right now without all the manpower.

He knows Foreman is more than capable of running a team but it still seems..."wrong," Chase whispers as he pictures House's expression looking back at him in amusement. However, he hears some shuffling and quickly turns to see the mild commotion at the end of the hallway; turning back to House's desk chair a few seconds later only to see it empty.

Anxiety weighs upon his mind as he pulls away and heads for the staff room, his mind now wondering how he and Cameron will manage, especially under Foreman's direction, which is more politically and sometimes professionally motivated than House's certainly was which was all medically. For him…much like House, it was all the medicine and that's what he misses the most from House's absence.

 _You'd just never admit that you miss House…_ Chase's brain chides as he enters the quiet staff room, early that fateful morning. "Course not," he chuckles to himself as he slowly pulls his locker open. "What the…" the young Aussie doctor muses as he pulls the door to his locker open and looks at something rather odd.

He plucks the small item from the top shelf of his locker and quickly looks around. Empty. Only him…and the object. He looks down at his palm as his lips purse.

"House used…no he's gone…this is someone else's sick prank," he huffs as he reaches for his lab coat, placing the little object in his pocket and then slamming the door shut. _Who else knows your locker combination? Or would dare to pick it?_

He and Cameron had tried to date, it didn't work and he wants nothing more than to just put it past him. But with their team so short, Chase knows that he'll have to work with only her and hopes that the cases up until the team is fully restocked will be without any personal incident.

That wouldn't happen.

As soon as he exited the staffroom, joined in step beside Cameron as they headed for Cuddy's office, his anxiety was gaining momentum. _It's just not the same…without House here…why do I miss him?_ Chase's mind silently ponders as he listens to Foreman telling the about their latest patient – a brutal African dictator – President Dibala.

Right from the start, Cameron expressed her negativity at treating the African dictator who was now in dire need of their medical expertise to literally save his life.

 _"I said it will be interesting,"_ Chase had reiterated to Cameron when she had tried to protest their involvement. Despite Cameron's very vocal protest, bringing up some very valid points about the grim future for a lot of innocent people if Dibala was to survive, Cuddy quickly reminds them that this is their job – and their personal feelings didn't factor in to their treatment. _"Do your job."_

But despite his silence, Chase's mind can't help but ponder the truthfulness behind Cameron's passionate plea to refuse medical treatment based on ethics.

"You're just okay with this?" Cameron somewhat scolds Chase as the two of them follow Foreman out of his office – heading back to a very familiar location.

"It's a job…just keep reminding yourself of that."

She mutters something almost incoherent in an undertone; his brain, however discerning the words and just giving her a tight lipped expression in return. However, his mind can't help but wonder what House might think of their newest patient. For a few seconds he finds himself feeling the urge to just text House and tell him – the devil is in the House. A brief snicker to follow. But it's not to be since he knows House has cut himself off from all professional communication – Wilson aside of course. Or…so he thinks.

Foreman looks over as Chase enjoys a private snicker, his dark brows arching, silently signaling a question about what was so funny. Chase says nothing and Foreman carries on about their patient's current medical condition. But as they enter House's office…the room they had once thought unoccupied, all three of them stop short and stare in shock at the one person a few meters away – on the other side of the table. The last person they _expected_ to see.

Gregory House.

Back. And looking like he never left. In charge and ready to tackle another medical mystery. Or…so they think?

"House?" Chase whispers as Foreman starts to question about House whether he's back and has is license reinstated.

 _"Are you back?" Foreman presses._

 _"Not for a month or so,"_ House answers Foreman directly, looking at Cameron and then Chase and then back at Foreman. _"During that time…you'll be in charge and I'll just…help out."_

House gives them all that look – ask your last question about my time away or let's get down to the business that really matters – saving the despicable dictator's life. No one dares to ask another question and the diagnosis gets underway.

 _"An assassination attempt…"_ Chase volunteers, starting them off; Cameron and then Foreman also adding their opinions but House catching Foreman on his attempt to leave the room in haste and forcing the current in charge diagnostician to stop and rethink his treatment. He does and Chase feels some sense of inner validation.

Foreman dismisses them but Chase hangs back, waiting for the others to clear the room before he turns and looks at House in boyish wonder.

"I've missed that almost innocent glare," House retorts as Chase pulls something from his pocket.

"Had I not seen you just now I would have thought Wilson was finally going to the dark side," Chase lightly quips as he tosses House the object in his grasp.

"Wilson's already on the dark side," House tosses back as he looks at the little ducky now safely nestled in his grasp.

"So…are you back for good?"

"Tired of Foreman already?"

"Actually…yes," Chase gently smirks.

"I'll take that as a compliment," House replies with a firm nod as he looks at the younger man's somewhat perplexed expression. "Anything…else?"

"No," Chase answers with a small frown.

"Ask me about it later."

"What?" Chase wonders.

"What it…was like. Run along now. And don't let the other kids make fun of your hair."

Chase merely offers House a smirk as he takes his leave, heading for their waiting patient and feeling somewhat content that House is back, no matter his role; House slowly pushing himself up from the table and looking down at the little smiling duck in his grasp before he tucks into his pocket and heads for Cuddy's office.

XXXXXXXX

Trying to push aside Cameron's snide remarks and silent accusatory glares for saying more than two words to a man she'd rather see dead than alive; Chase continues to set up the monitors around President Dibala's bed.

 _"Do I detect some British in there?"_ Dibala asks Chase after Chase had admitted that he was an Aussie.

 _"Most people don't notice it. Yeah I kicked around there for a while."_

 _"You went to medical school?"_

 _"Actually, a year of seminary."_

Chase tries to keep his mind focused on the mindless chatter that Dibala is making but at the same time can't help but wonder how House is going to just slide back into his old job and what he'll do for a month while his licensing issues are worked out. _Won't get bored? No…he'll be too busy meddling…or not working on our cases._

XXXXXXXX

As soon as he leaves the room, Chase looks down the hallway to see House leaving Cuddy's office and watches as the senior diagnostician slowly limps toward the staff room. _Go ask him about it...you know you want to…ask him about his time there and what made him come back…_

Before he's able, patient results come in and Chase knows that since they are short staffed, he can't just pawn the dictator's duties on to someone else – he'd have to take care of it. But after seeing his former boss making a surprise return and having to try to save a vicious man's life, he wasn't ready for something else that would add fuel to his already brewing emotional fire.

However, he's about to get it; in the form of an impassioned plea from another waiting patient. One he never thought was there as a clever rouse to get close to president Dibala. Mere seconds later he learns why.

 _"You…must not treat him. Dibala…he killed my wife."_

Chase pauses. Up until now he had told himself that the evil man's actions weren't his to judge and despite all Cameron's accusatory glares he just wanted to do his job and go home – unaffected personally. But as he turns back to the younger African man and looks at the desperate hatred in his haunted dark eyes he knows his long day is going to get a bit longer. _Don't turn back…_ his mind begs… _don't turn back…turning back makes it personal…don't…_

He does and unbeknownst to him in that moment his life is about to spiral so far down into the darkness that it would take something drastic to pull him back out. The distraught man launches into his story and Chase's tormented mind starts to battle fresh internal conflict.

 _"Dibala…he wants to kill them all…exterminate them all…he can't…recover."_

Chase looks at the man and feels his jaw tighten. _Don't give in…don't…"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."_

With that he turns and walks away, his heart now racing at top speed. He hurries into the quiet staff room, dumping his file board on the chair and turns on the cold water; splashing some on his face and praying for the rising heat from his core to be extinguished. It wouldn't.

After that he heads back to his locker, his mind trying to push aside the face of the murdered woman and her anguished husband asking him to do the impossible – break his oath and take a life, play God…pass judgment. Become the man he's been asked to kill. _I couldn't do it…just take a life…_

He pulls his locker open and instantly stops short, his head shaking as he reaches for the second little rubber ducky that day. "Damn you House," Chase snickers as he leaves the little plastic object in its place. "Go back out there…finish your day and go home," Chase tells himself with a firm nod as he grabs his file board and reenters the hallway.

"Chase!"

He turns to see Cameron rushing up to him with a frantic expression, calling out to him that their priority patient was crashing.

The day…was far from over.

XXXXXXXX

They regroup in House's office where House is waiting for them with a somewhat smug smile; Chase looking at House in expectation and mild amusement. But as much as Foreman tries to argue back about treatment and diagnosis, Chase can only silently applaud House as he holds his ground and forces Foreman to come around to his side, concluding the tense discussion with, " _it's good to have the old team back."_

Chase can only raise his glass in a mildly mocking toast as Foreman leaves, getting a wink of approval from House and feeling his earlier agitation somewhat subside. For some reason, he just feels that things are better now that House is back…and in charge. _No matter what the title says…House is still the boss…why is that comforting?_

Chase waits for Cameron to leave and then looks past House to his desk – seeing the little rubber ducky sitting there and then looks back at House with arched brows. "You have…two?"

"I have a lot of ducklings at my disposal," House replies simply. "Did one of them go missing again?"

"It magically appeared in my locker again. How did that happen?" Chase playfully pushes back.

"How's it working with only Cameron? Is she driving you crazy yet?"

"She's…I agree with her on some of her points," Chase replies seriously. "I just…am trying to stay detached and…" Chase starts only to be interrupted by House's phone ringing.

"Duty calls. Damn I've missed those goldilocks," House quips as he slowly stands up. "Fix this Dibala debacle and call it a day. Remain detached. It's not your mess so don't bother with the finite points."

"Yes sir," Chase whispers as he looks at House with a strained expression and then takes his leave. _One minute warm and the next…cold. What happened to him in there?_

But the angsty contention that had stemmed from them admitting President Dibala doesn't stop there with Cameron trying to dissuade a young woman from helping to save the evil man's life and then Chase literally charging into a heated situation to fulfill his medical duty.

 _"HEY! DON'T LET HIM IN THERE!"_ Chase yells as he races into the Dibala's room. Once again he's professionally conflicted. His frantic aquamarine gaze looks down at the young man being pummeled by Dibala's guards then over at the frame of the convulsing dictator.

"Stop it already!" Chase shouts as he tries to pry the guards arm away from the neck of the floundering victim. But at the same time he hears…"DIBALA! HELP HIM!" And turns to see the monitors going crazy; Cameron finally rushing in to help him remedy the situation; Foreman a few seconds later.

After the dictator's body starts to ease in its actions and the distraught young man is restrained, Chase wanders over to the cuffed man who had tried to take Dibala's life and kneels down to see if he's okay. _Don't get involved!_ His brain correctly warns. He figures…he's heard it all…he'd be wrong.

 _"What Dibala…his men made us do to those women…he'll do to the rest of Sitibi."_

Chase remains in place…his brain finally realizing the personal gravity of what's going on around him and how he's being sucked into it more and more – by his own doing. He tries to pull away but he can't… _if you save him…you'll be just as guilty,_ his brain races with horrible thoughts. "I…" he starts as he looks up to see House watching him in wonder. "I have to go."

With that he gets up and heads to House who offers him an almost scolding glance as he approaches. "What?" Chase asks in haste.

"Had I known you were going to get involved in a bloody…literally bloody altercation," House pauses as he nods to the fresh blood smattering on Chase's lab coat, "I'd have charged onlooker admission. You'd attract top dollar."

"He started to convulse," Chase retorts dryly.

"From the treatment or the attempted assassination?" House counters sharply as Chase's head shakes.

"His right eye is bloody…only his right eye. We're right back to square one," Chase states in distress as he pulls away from House and starts to walk away.

House watches him leave and for the first time in maybe weeks finally feels… _I'm back…this is where I belong. Robert…he's too young to be caught in all this…emotional madness._

XXXXXXXX

 _"Thank you for saving my life,"_ Dibala mentions; stopping Chase in his tracks as he fixes the IV about an hour later and then turns to leave.

 _"The man that tried to kill you, said that you were preparing a massacre….in a way that's being called genocide,"_ Chase replies firmly as Dibala gets very agitated.

 _"I'm trying to prevent genocide. My son…youngest hasn't spoken to men in years because of what he read in your newspapers. The lies they make up about me."_

But Chase doesn't let up, countering about the youth liberation league and Dibala verbally counters, promising it will not happen again.

 _Let it go…just let it go…_ Chase's mind urges as he prepares to take his leave, telling the dictator to rest now. Dibala closes his eyes and Chase completes his task.

Just as Chase is about to pass, Dibala's Colonel, Ntiba approaches him; Dibala asleep, or so making them all think he's not paying any attention to anyone. Ntiba asks Chase if he thinks Dibala is capable of thinking clearly and he answers, not right now; and his already on the decline. He then directly asks Ntiba if he can be sure the commands from Dibala are even rash and not just those of a sick, deluded and dying man.

Ntiba says nothing as both of them hear Dibala starting to stir and Chase knows he's overstayed his welcome. House remains in place watching and wondering what Chase had said to the dictator's right hand to leave him so visually agitated.

If the man didn't hold the authority to make Chase's life miserable, he'd have audibly applauded the young Aussie for getting under the man's skin in only a few short seconds. _Why am I suddenly protective over the way he's looking at Robert?_ However, as House watches Chase starting to take his leave, Dibala's eyes open and rest on Chase's back; the rest of his guards turning their attention to the young Aussie doctor and House seeing an invisible target painted in bright Red on the back of Chase's lab coat that makes his inner agitation flourish. _Why am I so worried all of a sudden? I haven't missed him that much! Yes…time to leave…_ House's mind silently muses. At first he's not sure why he even cares that this dying dictator is eyeing his youngest and brightest duckling in the way he is and dismisses it as back on the job jitters. But Chase is unable to escape fast enough and House's agitation skyrockets.

"Doctor Chase," Dibala calls out, prompting Chase to turn back and duck inside the dictator's room; House's inner apprehension to start to take flight.

"I was just lea…"

"I heard what you told Ntiba and you were trying to put a gun in his hand in that moment; wanting to point it at my head. He didn't act. Now the gun is in your hand. Will you act? Will you pull the trigger? Your colleague Dr. Cameron has strong feelings but won't take the next step. You have strong feelings. I saw how you reacted to that younger man that tried to kill me. Your first duty was to him," Dibala slightly accuses as Chase's eyes narrow. "Did you wish he had completed his task and taken my life? It's always easier to let someone else pull the actual trigger than get your hands bloodied. If you want me dead then you pull the trigger!"

Chase remains silent under Dibala's accusatory tone; House slowly inching closer toward the hospital room entrance.

"Despite his failed attempt he was strong enough to act on his beliefs. Are you? Are you too weak to act on your beliefs? It's not so easy to pull the trigger yourself!"

"What are you going to do about Sitibi?"

"Men make choices!"

"I saved your life! I deserve to know what you're planning!" Chase pushes back in anger; the two of the locking gazes for a few heated minutes. But in that moment…as much as Chase had told himself that he could remain professionally and emotionally detached – Dibala had him. He had successfully backed him into a corner and now it was time for him to come clean – to himself.

"Whatever it takes to protect my country!" Dibala exclaims as he grabs hold of Chase's wrist and slightly jerks him forward; House's anger instantly surging. "You will save my life and their blood will be on your hands! Just like mine. Can you live with that? Can you make that choice?"

Chase jerks his hand free and instantly his fist balls; prompting the guards to move in a bit closer and House to take action; his mind wondering why he's suddenly so protective of the young Aussie. _Did I get soft in while away from this place? Therapy? Damn it!_

"Show's over people!" House's voice snaps; forcing Chase to look back at him and nod before taking his leave and Dibala to look at House in wonder; House slowly approaching the entrance to the dictator's room. He hears a little warning voice in his head telling him to just walk away… _don't get involved!_ However…staying out of other people's business isn't something in his nature. No amount of therapy could cure that.

"Are you his superior?" Dibala questions House in an icy tone.

"Do you get off on touching young men?" House tosses right back as Dibala's eyes narrow in contempt; Ntiba moving in a step closer. "Maybe he does?" House then looks directly at Ntiba. "It's interesting that those that are so quick with the "big talk" are usually the slowest to actually make good on said talk. Good day gentlemen…and dictator."

House takes his leave and heads for his office…feeling better about being back in the thick of things and anxious to get his license back so he can be the one calling the shots. He tells himself that Chase will get the bloodwork for Scleroderma and then call it a day so he calls Wilson and says he's on his way over; leaving PPTH in the rear view mirror until tomorrow, telling himself that the evening would be uneventful.

He'd be wrong.

XXXXXXXX

Chase looks down at his shaking hands as he hears Foreman making the call to switch Dibala to steroids. A sure death sentence. But something he knows inside is the choice he's made…the path he's taken and the consequences he's willing to live with. He hopes he can just slip away into the night, go home and read about it in the morning. That's not to be. Dibala crashes faster than expected. So just before he's about to leave for the day, he hears a code being called for Dibala's room and Ntiba steps out and yells at him; Cameron and Foreman rushing behind him to help.

As the small band of medical professionals races to save Dibala's life; his men rush toward the bed demanding answers, wanting to know what's going on. _"Get them out of here! Get them BACK!"_ Chase shouts as he frantically looks at Ntiba's threatening gaze and then back at the crimson sludge spouting from Dibala's mouth.

However…it's not to be. The evil dictator had drawn his last labored breath and was pronounced dead a few minutes later; Ntiba's intense gaze on Chase's back starting to intensify. He pulls back, looking at Foreman and then back down at Dibala's body; his mind racing as he finally realizes the gravity of the choice he just made.

Foreman looks at Chase as he leaves the room and Chase's feeling of personal doom continues to gain inner and silent momentum. _Oh God…oh what have I done…what have…WHAT HAVE I DONE!_ his mind spirals as he looks down at Dibala's dead corpse, the blood on his gloved hands and then back up at Ntiba…praying his guilt-ridden glance doesn't give him away.

It would. His world is about to drastically change…forever….but in a way…he never imagined. But…it was also going to affect someone else in a way _they_ never imagined.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well? How did you like the angsty start? (am always nervous when I post so hope its okay!) House is back and I put him into a few situations already testing his emotions toward Chase. And yes ducky is back! (hey this is my story so of course ducky is back!) Will those new emotions/feelings be dismissed or continue to grow? In the eppy of course Chase got mad b/c Dibala grabbed Cameron's hand but since this is AU the affront was on Chase himself…and his actions were based on his own rash judgment (House watching b/c I wanted to start the protective vibes growing). There is no lame marriage and Chase lives alone. So yikes…how will he fare now that he knows he's broken his professional oath and committed murder? Or was it? Hmmm this story is just getting started…and lots ahead but only if you want more so please do review with your thoughts and let me know and thanks so much!


	2. and - Consequences

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 2 – and….Consequences**

 **A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! Means so much! As was stated in chapter one this is an AU story so while it will center around the death of Dibala that's about all that I'll use from the eppy (besides the delicious Chase angst!). The rest of the story is all my muse (hehe) and so while we won't give too much away…I'll say this – is Chase really as guilty as he thinks? *Wink* please do read on and enjoy! Thanks!

* * *

"We need to…"

"You said you could save him!" Ntiba looks at Chase in contempt.

"Tried…I…tried," Chase stammers as he looks down at his gloved hands; his eyes fixating on the fresh blood and his stomach instantly lurching. "We…did what we could."

And before Dibala's right hand man can say another word, Chase pushes past him, roughly yanking his gloves from his hands and tossing them angrily into the nearest garbage can and leaving the room. Wanting to escape. Nearly making it but not quite.

"Dr. Chase!"

He stops and turns to see Ntiba marching up to him with a cross expression. "What just happened! I demand an answer right now!"

"I…I don't know. He had a reaction to the steroids and…I have to go. His body will…"

"Undergo a full autopsy!" Ntiba declares as he leans in closer. "And with us watching to make sure there was no foul play! You…you will not be involved! I don't trust you! This will be _our team_ and our team only!"

He feels the accusatory sting and his heart nearly explodes; giving Ntiba a nod and then pivoting on his heel and hurrying away.

Chase pushes his way into the quiet staff room, ripping off his bloodied lab coat, tossing it aside and then bending over the sink; praying for the nausea in his system to subside long enough for him to go home and just… _YOU MURDERED HIM!_ Chase's reflection silently yells back. _Go home…regroup and then come back tomorrow and…what? You just broke your own professional oath!_

He looks back up and then glares at his reflection staring at himself in the mirror, his brain trying to command his heart rate to slow back to normal. But a few seconds later he sees his reflection look back and offer a mocking smile.

 _'I know what you did…you MURDERED HIM!'_

"Shut…up," Chase starts with a soft whisper as he tries to swallow back a thick lump of emotion.

 _'You made the choice…you willingly KILLED HIM!'_

"SHUT UP!" Chase shouts as he balls his fist and tries to hit the mirror, wanting to get rid of his own accusatory reflection. Instead he ends up striking the edge of the mirror, slamming it into the hard edge and the wall; pulling it back in agony.

"Bloody hell," he softly curses as he looks at the scuffed skin on his now throbbing knuckles. He shakes his head and then turns away, the room starting to spin and his stomach wanting to throw up whatever bits of dinner were leftover. And he does, into the toilet; standing back up and then rinsing his mouth once more before he heads back to his locker to get his personal things and head home.

As soon as his hand rests on his wallet he pauses…looks at the shaking and then pulls his hand back.

"I…he was evil and vicious and sadistic and…" Chase's voice rattles off in haste as he tries to get his hands to stop shaking. "He deserved it and…" _and now you're just like him!_ His mind accuses in return as he squeezes his eyes shut. "I just need to go home and…" he stops as he opens eyes and stares into his locker in misery.

Somehow he manages to get his jacket on and then reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder but pausing in his tracks; his legs feeling somewhat like jelly.

 _How can you just go home and…you MURDERED HIM!_

"No…it was just a reaction to…" Chase's voice trails off as he tries to close his locker door. He slams it shut but something jars itself in the opening, causing him to pull the door back open and reaches into the pocket of his lab coat and then pulls it back out.

Just before a curse can escape his lips, he stops…looks down at the little yellow ducky in his grasp and for the first time in literally hours feels a small weight lift from his shoulders. _Yeah but…House can't help you now! He has no pull and wasn't involved…he knows nothing and would be extremely disappointed!_

Chase feels his heart sink as his fingers close tightly around the little yellow ducky; his free hand closing the locker door and the ducky finding a new way home – in his jacket breast pocket. He takes a deep breath and then finally pulls away from the lockers and heads for the door; exiting into the hallway and then making a determined path toward the exit – any exit.

Once outside, Chase takes a deep breaths of cool air; his chest still slightly heaving and his heart beating painfully in his chest as he takes a few heavy steps toward away from the hospital. He forgoes his car…wanting to just walk and get as much fresh air as possible, wanting to clear his head and come up with…or try to come up with a new plan of attack for the next day.

 _'He was evil and sadistic and…and now he'll never hurt anyone ever again…'_

His brain wants to jeer…laughing that he can talk all the big words he wants but knowing in the end that he was the one that made the wrong choice and so now must live with the consequences. _The question is…can you live with this consequence._ You had one job…ONE JOB! Help him and that was it.

"YOU KILLED HIM!"

Chase stops mid-tracks…his mind racing and heart about to explode in his chest…his stomach tight and his brain not actually wanting to turn him around to see who was now accusing him…or rather bringing to light just what he's done. _Coward…you did this…now reap what you sowed!_

He turns. But just as he does the world before him comes into view and Chase's lungs actually exhale – his eyes resting on the tablet of two teens as they near.

"YOU KILLED HIM WITH MALLOW FLUFF!"

The two teens laugh as they pass, giving him a small nod just because he was there and then carry on.

 _Let's see how long you last with this guilt…it'll EAT YOU UP!_ his mind jeers as he pulls away and then continues on his way home. His mind races with the thoughts about what the fallout would be for this… _I just murdered a powerful man…a dictator…a country's leader and…I played God and now…now I have to live with the consequences…_

But what would that entail?

Chase reaches his lonely apartment, closes the door and then stares into the void before him…the silence starting to make the pounding in his ears gain momentum and sound almost amplified. "I'll just…make dinner and…"

But Chase knows that's not about to happen. The last thing his stomach wants is to put food in it; his mind just wanting to curl up and try to get some sleep. But as soon as he looks around he hears…his own voice jeering that he was guilty and no better than the man he had chosen to kill. _These are the CONSEQUENCES!_

He pulls away from the door and heads into his bedroom, the silence starting to wrap its thick arms around him; threatening to stifle him with his own unspoken remorse.

"I did it and…" he tries to convince himself…tell himself out loud that it was no big deal…that he did the world a favor and that he could sleep good knowing that the world was rid of one more evil entity. But that plan would instantly fail. He heads into the kitchen, still fully clothed and pulls open the fridge.

Not hungry.

He hurries into the living room, his entire frame agitated and his core temperature slowly but steadily rising to a heated boil. Chase turns on the TV and then sits down on the nearest chair, his fingers fumbling with the remote as he tells himself that this was just something he has to work through and it would all be okay. He stands up and looks around…his mind racing with what he could do to keep himself occupied. Sleep? That would be moot for a few days at least. Read? What and for how long? He looks around, frantically wanting to find something…anything that would help erase some of his guilt. Nothing appears. So with that he angrily flips off the TV, grabs his keys from the hall desk and hurries back into the apartment hallway.

Once again, he pauses outside in the cool night air; taking in a few deep breaths and trying to get his heart rate to calm. It doesn't work. He starts to walk…not knowing where or even caring but just wanting to walk. Just to get away. He circles the block a few times before venturing on; the coolness now starting to nip at his skin and his body just wanting to find a place to shut down.

So he checks himself into the nearest hotel, pays for a room, locks the door, falls onto the bed and passes out – his mind desperate to know how he'd fare the following day.

XXXXXXXX

House looks up the next morning, silently sitting in a chair in the corner of the staff lounge, watching the young Aussie's tired frame enter the room – in a nearly trance-like state.

"You wore that outfit yesterday," House states simply as Chase looks up in wonder. But as soon as he does, House can instantly tell that something is wrong. The usual mischievous spark in the aquamarines are now…haunted? Tired for sure but…afraid? Of what?

"It only looks the same to you."

"Your collar was turned under yesterday…in the same place," House quips as Chase opens his mouth to protest and then quickly closes it. He slowly pushes himself upright and heads toward Chase just as he pulls his locker open.

"Half expected to see another ducky there."

"I'm more curious about this ducky here," House retorts as he closes Chase's locker door, forcing the younger man to look at him in wonder. "Was she worth the lack of sleep?"

"There was no…"

"And do I smell…" he starts as he leans in closer. "Is that…whiskey?"

"Mouthwash," Chase groans as his mind flashes him images to the night before.

 _He had crashed on the queen sized hotel bed…sleeping for a few tormented hours before he got up…raided the min-bar and then tried to drink away his emotional sorrows, passing out on the bed once more – still fully clothed._

"Does she like…men with canes?" House taps his; Chase looking at him and trying to crack a smile but unable, instead shaking his head as he looks away and reopens his locker door.

"Tough day yesterday," Chase mentions as House's face remains on the other side of the open metal door. "Nothing more."

"Things get more heated after I left?"

"He died."

"I saw the newspapers," House retorts as he peers around the corner; Chase staring absently at the little yellow ducky now perched on the shelf looking back at him with a goofy grin. "Are you sorry he's dead?"

"I have…what?" Chase stammers as he looks at House in torment.

"I asked are you sorry he's dead."

"No. What else?"

"Something…is up. I was instructed on how to be more…intuitive."

"Always tough to lose a patient…no matter their political aspirations."

"The guy was an ass," House states flatly as Chase's lips purse. "Dibala kept you up all night drinking?" House asks in wonder.

 _Ah…he's got you,_ Chase's muddled brain chides as he looks at House with a deep frown. "It was a long day," Chase states simply as he turns back to his locker, looking at the slightly dark circles under his eyes and hoping that no one else will call him on his fatigue-weary expression.

"My time is free…"

"Nothing is free…especially with you," Chase retorts sourly as he pulls back, slams his locker shut and pulls away.

"My little Aussie duckling is very cheeky this morning."

Chase pauses and then turns back to House and looks at him in misery; House looking at him with an expression that begs something further. "I…made a mistake."

"One you can live with?"

Chase doesn't answer, instead he turns and leaves the room; House watching him in wonder and then staring at the space he had just been standing.

"Something's…up," House ponders as he looks down at his buzzing phone. "Taub…right on time," House mutters as a smug smile crosses his lips as he answers.

XXXXXXXX

Chase enters the hallway and then stops; feeling Ntiba's intense gaze on him and then starts to look around, his eyes frantically searching every face…every corner…ever whispered accusation as his heart rate starts to beat heavily in his chest.

His breathing starts to shallow and his hands slightly shake….his lungs starting to gasp and small dark circles threatening to form before his eyes.

 _'I know what you did! You…you murdered our leader! You can't play GOD! You will PAY!'_

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, prompting Chase to turn around with a startled gasp and House pulling back in surprise.

"Bugger," Chase curses as House offers him an amused smirk.

"Lost in foggy thoughts…maybe whiskey filled thoughts."

"I had a sleepless night…it happens. You've had them…many…it's no big deal!" Chase tosses back angrily as he pulls away and storms toward the elevator; disappearing from House's view just as Wilson stops beside House.

"Making friends?" Wilson quips.

"Something's wrong with my youngest and brightest duckling."

"Yours?"

"Don't let's Foreman's rhetoric BS sway you…I'm loaning that office to him for a month…and a month only."

"House…" Wilson starts as House looks at him with a puzzled expression.

"He did something…"

"Foreman?" Wilson counters as House rolls his eyes.

"Robert…Dr. Chase," House lightly snaps as Wilson's lips purse.

"Did something? Is that…what's going on?" Wilson presses.

"You saw the papers this morning?"

"A dictator died under his watch. I'm sure it's just that…all his guys yelling and accusing…he's probably second guessing himself and what he did. He'll be fine. The test results were correct right? The patient…just didn't react the right way?"

"Right."

"But you don't sound convinced," Wilson insists. "I know you. You _live_ for conspiracy theories. Or maybe did?"

"I still do." House is about to add something when he notices a dark figure enter his line of sight and then stop. Ntiba, Dibala's right hand man pauses and looks down the hallway and House and sharply narrows his eyes; House holding his angry gaze and not backing down. A few seconds later the foreign dignitary continues on his way and the hallway is once again quiet.

"Maybe more so now," House whispers as he utters something incoherent; Wilson looking at him in wonder.

"What is going on?"

"I don't know…yet. But I will and I doubt then I find out that I'll like it. We'll see," House mutters under his breath as he pulls away; Wilson shaking his head but offering his best friend a frown.

"Yeah…we'll see," Wilson whispers as House disappears from view. "See what? What the hell is really going on?"

XXXXXXXX

Chase's brain tries to get his heart to calm down a bit as he hurries down the quiet hallway toward the morgue, wanting to confirm that he had covered all his tracks and that he had done the right thing – according to him. _He is an ass! He deserved it! House was right … but then House didn't do the actual deed did he? No…YOU DID!_

He rounds the corner and stops short, his eyes zooming in on the African adorned police standing outside the entrance to the morgue – sealing it off and his anxiety continues to blossom inside. _What if…you made your choice – now live with it!_

Chase watches another doctor approach is told – rather vehemently that the area is closed off until further notice and they just had to wait.

"On whose authority?" The doctor demands impatiently.

"Your hospital Director's!"

Seeing that it's now pointless to even try, Chase takes a deep breath and then turns to leave. But just as he turns around he instantly stops short and stifles a startled gasp. Chase steps back a foot; his breath catching as the haunting dark eyes instantly narrow and his opponent leans in closer, a small sneer starting to adorn his black lips.

"I know what you did," Ntiba whispers as he pulls something from his pocket. " _And…I will get even_."

* * *

 **A/N:** So am gonna up the angst/tension factor for both House and Chase – when alone or together but House's concern for Chase of course is only going to increase. So I hope you are all liking this new AU adventure and this update and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	3. To Dance with the Devil

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 3 – To Dance with the Devil**

* * *

Chase feels a small lump of panicked anxiety form in his throat as he watches something silvery rise and then finally swallows said lump as he gazes at the pocket watch with a fleeting glimpse of contempt.

"He…reacted badly," Chase stammers as his phone starts to buzz. _Get out of here now!_ his brain commands as he tries to turn to leave. But just as he does, Ntiba's hand shoots out and grabs the lapel of his white coat, yanking him backward and forcing Chase to compensate by shuffling his feet to the side to keep from toppling them both over. Looking to the guards for help was moot so his hand comes up and tries to pry himself free.

"I know…what you did…" Ntiba hisses as his grip releases and Chase pulls back in frustration.

"This…is harassment," Chase relies as his phone starts to buzz once more.

"I am not a man to suffer lightly Dr. Chase," Ntiba states in controlled anger. "You would do well to remember that."

"I'm late…for work."

This time Chase is able to successfully turn and exit the area, his heart now beating painfully in his chest and his core fully enflamed. He enters the cool stairwell and leans against the solid wall for a few seconds, turning to rest his flushed cheek on the cold stone and delighting in the first welcomed sensation in hours.

 _Just…go put in an appearance and then go home and just…rest!_ part of his brain advises – the other jeering at him and reminding him of an oath he had taken when embarking upon his medical career.

 _Above all, I must not play at God…_ you did…you took it upon yourself to END A MAN'S LIFE!

Chase's hands cover his ears as his mind's eye shows him Dibala looking up with dark eyes… _'you killed me!'_

"I…." Chase huffs softly as he hears heavy footsteps heading toward the exit door. He pulls away from the wall, clutches the cool metal railing and pulls himself upstairs.

House looks up as Chase finally enters the room, the younger man tossing him a rather uneasy smile and taking his seat at the far end of the table. "We don't bite…or smell," House quips as Cameron looks at Chase with indifference and Foreman merely frowns. "First order of business," House starts and then looks at Foreman's less than amused expression.

"Taub is coming back."

Already knowing what Foreman is going to tell them about their former and now returning colleague, House's attention fixes on his youngest fellow with interest. _Face is flushed…shoulders tense…jaw taut…hands…slightly shaking? What happened on the way to the office?_

House makes some lame comment about Chase's mind distracted by his wild night swinging from the ceiling but all Chase can see in his mind's eye are Dibala's dark eyes opening, glaring at him and his deep voice saying, _'I know you killed me!'_

After the small group is dismissed for their latest case, House beckons Chase to stay behind; shooing away Foreman and Cameron when they want to linger to see what's going on.

"Desperate for some new gossip?"

"Humor me," House tosses back firmly.

"I said I'm fine," Chase insists.

"You smell like a man…"

"I am a man," Chase tosses back with some indignation; House's expression slightly softening.

"I know my duckling's smell…I mean _another_ man and I know you don't swing that way. Unless you do and in that case…I've been gone longer than I thought and things have really changed. Do you?"

"I bumped into another doctor."

"Doctor's know this place is fragrance free. But maybe…a visiting dignitary?"

 _So busted…._ his mind jeers as Chase's jaw slightly twitches. "It was a bump."

"Which one? Did they actually touch you?" House continues to press. "Unwantedly?"

"I have work to do," Chase insists as he pushes past House and disappears before House can say another word.

"Something happened," House correctly surmises as his phone rings. "What!"

 _"Should be used to that by now," Huddy's less than amused tone is heard._

XXXXXXXX

Chase's brain scolds him as he heads toward his latest patient's room. But as he nears the next room he looks in and stops; his whole body offering a shudder as he sees Dibala's imaginary frame rise and look at him in anger; pointing his finger.

 _I know what you DID!_ His voice booms inside Chase's already muddled brain. He then turns to see Ntiba aim an automatic weapon at him and pull the trigger.

"Chase?"

His body jerks as the trigger is pulled and then turns to see Wilson looking at him in wonder.

"Everything okay?"

"Lost in thought," Chase mutters as he pushes past and carries on his way; leaving Wilson standing in the middle of the hallway with a wondering expression.

"Could House be right?" Wilson muses with a small huff. "Is something else going on with him?"

Chase enters the patient's room, mentally dismissing Cameron's impatient glare and trying to focus on the task at hand. But his lack of concentration is evident to everyone and Cameron finally calls him on his distraction.

"I'm fine! I'm just tired of everyone asking," he slightly snaps as he signs the forms and then heads for the lab; his mind thankful that House was able to get Taub to come back as with his return the gossip would turn to Taub and he'd be out of everyone's radar.

Well…not everyone.

His latest task takes him past Cuddy's office where he hears Foreman and Ntiba talking in strict tones about Dibala's death.

"Your doctor was incompetent! He let our leader die!"

 _Me…he means…me…_ a lump forms in Chase's throat as he remains frozen in place. He hears some mocking laughter and looks up to see an image of himself standing a few feet away, one hand waging in the air.

 _'You're really buggered now aren't you.'_

Chase glares at the image of himself before him…nothing there of course, his lips uttering a soft curse before the jeering image fades. But he quickly learns his fear has held him in place too long as the next face he sees is another that is unwelcomed.

"If I didn't know better Dr. Chase, I'd say you were hanging around our contingent because of…a guilty conscience?" Ntiba hisses as he leans in closer. But before he can say another word, Foreman exits and looks at the two of them in wonder.

Chase pushes past; his face trying to give off an expression of indifference but with his heart rapidly thumping in his chest he knows he's betrayed at least his reason for being there.

 _No I just wanted to talk to Cuddy and…_ his mind trails off as he hurries back to his patients room; Cameron looking up in wonder.

"You ran the test that fast?"

"I…what?"

"You were heading to the lab to check…"

"Right," Chase answers somewhat mechanically and then turns and leaves the room; his mind inwardly scoffing at him for not being able to concentrate on his job. He hurries back into the lab, his lips muttering something incoherent; his mind telling him that he's alone and it doesn't matter anyways.

However, he's wrong.

"So…if it's not a new girlfriend and quite certain it's not a new boyfriend, I'm at a loss as to explain why you're so distracted."

Chase looks up to see House looking at him in wonder and feels his shoulders slump. "I hate to lose a patient."

"Your British arrogance won't allow you to make a mistake from time to time?" House counters with a tease about his nationality as Chase stops cold, wondering if House was inferring… _does he know….something?_ but he can only smirk at House's nationality slip and shake his head.

"My Australian arrogance won't rise to this lame debate."

"I think…a visiting dignitary has been harassing you," House continues.

"Harassing?" Chase retorts softly.

"Or…taking more of an interest and you're…embarrassed to admit it?" House continues as he leans in a bit closer. But when he notices Chase bristle his lips slightly purse. "He likes pretty white boys."

"He's upset at his leader having just died."

"Is that why you're upset?"

"Why do you suddenly care? You never did before!" Chase huffs before his expression softens. "I need to get this done."

"Don't let me stop you," House muses as he pulls back and looks at Chase with a shrug, softly whistling and swinging his cane while Chase tries to concentrate on the task at hand. House hears Chase curse and then looks up to see Chase shake his head, toss the test strip away and then look back down, his fingers twisting and turning the side knob of the machine with such force that House actually fears the inanimate object will meet an untimely death.

"Did you kill it?"

 _It?..._ but Chase hears _him_ and looks up sharply. "It was a reaction!"

"I said _it_ ….not _him_ and I was referring to…the microscope," House replies pointedly as Chase looks back down in haste.

Chase finishes his task and then looks up at House with a rather cross expression. "I'm glad you're back but if you're that bored go and bug Cameron!"

With that he storms out of the room, leaving House standing alone in silence watching the door with a heavy sigh. "I'm more worried about you," House whispers as he takes his leave.

Chase rushes back into the patient's room with the test results and then hands them to Cameron. "Didn't sleep much last night. But this is the correct dosage and should work."

With that he takes his leave and heads for the staff lounge, wanting to get his stuff, get home and get some muchly needed rest.

That plan…wasn't about to come to fruition.

XXXXXXXX

"Is there anyone in your vicinity that isn't distracted by…something?"

"You," House counters dryly as Wilson gives him a less than amused expression.

"Chase?"

"Maybe."

"The Africans?"

"Yeah…it could, what?" House looks up in haste. "Why would you say that?"

"I witnessed a nice interlude between Dr. Chase and an angry looking dignitary coming out of Cuddy's office earlier today. I didn't hear what was said but I doubt it was praise of any kind. When are they leaving?"

"Not soon enough," House hisses as Wilson's brows arch.

"Aren't you taking this a bit too personally?"

House leans back in his chair and pauses before answering.

"Come on…Chase is rattled because of what happened. He'll go home, sleep it off and come back and tomorrow fresh and new."

"And if that doesn't happen can I say I told you so?"

"You would anyway," Wilson replies with a groan as House slowly stands up. "Come on…buy me dinner."

House mutters something under his breath, trying to sound like he's just shrugging it off but inside his mind, his worry for his youngest duckling continues to grow. _That African dignitary is up to something…but what? If he's still around tomorrow I'm gonna put a stop to this._

Feeling secure in his plan, House tells himself everything will be okay until morning and Robert would go home and get some rest.

He'd be wrong…on both counts.

XXXXXXXX

Chase enters the staff room with a racing heart and aching stomach, not having had much in the way of food in the past 24 hours. He opens his locker, shoves his lab coat into it and then grabs his bag.

But just before he can escape, he watches Foreman round the corner with a stern look on his face and something in his grasp.

"Got a sec?"

"Haven't slept in 24 hours. I need to go home and crash. Can it wait?"

"Uh…not really."

"What's going on?"

"I went down to the morgue. Dibala's men have it now but I found this. It's a sign in sheet for the morgue. Your signature. 9:45am yesterday morning. Right before you ran the test. What were you doing there?"

"Following up on a case," Chase answers simply.

"What case?"

"You think that's important right now!" Chase snaps; his agitated anger getting the best of him.

"One of the patients in the morgue was a 78 year old woman with Scleroderma! If you took that woman's blood it would have messed up the test results and Dibala was treated for the wrong disease."

"And? You're going to tell on me?" Chase counters.

Foreman says nothing, only looks back with a penetrating glare, silently demanding the truth. "What…happened?"

Chase knows he's caught and he has to confess. "He was going to kill the Sitibi. Every last one of them. What more could we have done? Every life we have saved would have meant nothing if we had just sent him off to kill hundreds of thousands of people. Look at the news. There's now hope for peace talks. I'm not saying I did it BUT…if you tell the world that the test results might have been faked or wrong and Dibala becomes a martyr and the massacres begins then who's really to blame?"

"Think you can guilt me into not probing further?" Foreman asks in exasperation.

"We don't know for sure it was…" Chase tries to backpedal. "He had a reaction…something went wrong but…look I made a mistake…a big one. Just…if they are going to have a hearing, warn me first. Just…a head's up."

"Was there at any point a time when you left those test results alone?"

"What?"

"Just…playing devil's advocate. Blame House but don't tell him that," Foreman huffs. "Anytime?"

"Maybe…" Chase stops to ponder.

"Think about very carefully tonight and then first thing tomorrow I want you to document…every single second of yesterday and I mean every second."

With that sobering thought, Foreman takes his leave and Chase slumps down onto a nearby bench; his mind and heart racing as his face slips into his palms. _He knows…Foreman knows and…will he turn me in? What will he do with that report? What have I done? Oh God…what have I done…I…I killed him I did…I know I did. But…no no doubt. I faked the test and then…then I left it alone for a bit and…I did but…but I just assumed that…no one was there but me… I…wait…was there? was there someone else?_

However, he doesn't get to finish his thought when he hears footsteps and looks up to see a very stern face enter the room; two uniformed men instep right behind him.

"Ntiba," Chase whispers almost in dread.

"You killed…him? I knew it!"

"No wait…"

"Take him," Ntiba directs his two men as they rush in to cuff Chase's now struggling frame.

"Hey you can't…"

"Robert Chase, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of President Dibala."

* * *

 **A/N:** eeks! So LOTS of Chase angst and guilt and even more to come. Yikes! But at the same time House's emotional pull is continuing to grow and of course he's worried – and rightly so. I have 'tweaked' the conversations a little from the canon dialogue to cast some doubt on whether Chase really did it. He thinks he did…but…did he? *evil grin* but now the arrest? How will House react _when_ he finds out and how will Chase fare in prison? How long will he be there and what will he endure now? Lots of delicious angst/hurt/tension ahead so please do review and thanks so much!


	4. 24 hours in Hell

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 4 – 24 hours in Hell**

 **A/N:** Thanks so much to all those who have reviewed so far. Yes I have put my own twist on the canon SL and so glad you all picked up on that. But before we get to figuring out who actually killed Dibala some MAJOR Chase angst is coming up! So hang on…

* * *

"This…this can't be!" Chase tries to call out as he's bodily shoved toward the back exit door. "This isn't…legal!"

"Neither is murder!" Ntiba's angry voice booms as he marches up to Chase and sneers at him. "You murdered our leader. I'm going to put you into a holding cell and then arrange to have you sent back to…"

"Back…to where? No! I…" Chase gulps as he frantically looks around for some signs…any signs of help. "HELP ME!" He calls out before he's punched in the stomach by Ntiba. Who then grabs a handful of dirty blond hair and jerks his head upright.

"No one says no to me," he hisses as Chase's watery eyes narrow. "You'll stand trial in Africa and the penalty there is….death!"

"Africa…no here…"

"Africa!"

"I have rights…I…." Chase tries once more as Ntiba leans in closer. "You…can't," he offers in a choked whisper, his throat suddenly too dry to swallow.

Finally Chase sees a uniformed officer walking up to them. "Officer!"

"Any trouble here?" He asks gruffly.

However, just before Chase can offer a plea in his defense the officer looks at Ntiba instead.

"This is an unfair arrest," Chase tries as the officer turns and glares at him. "I have rights."

"Take him!" The officer directs the two men holding Chase.

"NO!" Chase shouts as he's shoved into the back of the darkened sedan, his brain frantically racing for a reasonable solution to his dire situation. _I get one phone call…I'll call Foreman and…and he'll at least get me out until…until something is proven that…you killed him!_ His mind shouts back. _You took the risk…the risk that someone would find out and you'd be in trouble! You'll be arrested…stripped of your license and…_ "I get a phone call," Chase states simply; his brain praying that the quiver in his tone doesn't sound as audible as he fears.

It does and Ntiba can only relish in the younger man's distress. "You get nothing!"

 _I'll get there and make a call and…and….this can't be happening…_

Chase gently squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position in the back of the stuffy car – but he can't. With his core enflamed, heart racing, head pounding and stomach aching, all he wants to do is find a deep, dark hole and hide himself away until all the heat has passed.

But that's not about to happen and his ordeal…is about to go from very bad to even far worse than imagined. Chase's stomach starts to rebel as he hears Ntiba mention something in his native tongue and feels bile threatening to rise. Small beads of sweat form and start to slowly slide down his tense spine; his throat trying to swallow and the bile burning his esophagus all the way back down to his churning stomach.

 _I get one call…I'll call Foreman…he knows about this…what about House? House…at first his mind wants to find a reason why that would work but at the same time he knows that House has no license right now so therefore has no pull…Foreman knows…he…call House! he'll not back down to these people!_

"I need to call my…"

"Silence!" Ntiba shouts from the front seat, turning around to glare at Chase; the man in the back with him leaning in a bit closer.

Chase tries to swallow once more, his mind seized with panic as a small voice…a very small voice tries to tell him to stand his ground and get his phone call.

As they near the back of the police station and enter the underground parking lot, Chase's anxiety literally explodes inside him.

"This…can't be!"

"This is where you'll be held until…"

"I have rights!"

"So did our leader!" Ntiba shouts back, forcing Chase to instantly recoil. "You'll be processed under our laws and…"

"Your laws? No…I know my rights and…"

"You have none!"

"Yes I d …." but that's all Chase gets out as this time Ntiba's hand flies toward him, striking him in the cheek and making his head snap back in pain.

"Let's go."

"This…isn't fair…" Chase grunts as he tries to kick at the man beside him, trying in vain to get his arm and pull him out. But when that fails, the door beside Chase opens and driver's strong hands yanks him from the false safety of the back seat. _No no…no this can't be…_ Chase shakes his head, looking around for someone…anyone that might help him.

"Officer!" Chase tries once more in desperation. _He's been paid off!_ his mind snaps back! _that's the only explanation for him helping Dibala!_

"No one's coming to your aid!" The officer mentions in an undertone.

Chase looks around once more, finally seeing a lone man at the far end of the underground parking lot, leaning against a thick cement beam and taking a swig from a small flask in his grasp. "Help me! I've been arrested unfairly! Help me!" Chase shouts only to receive a hard blow to his kidneys; causing him to stumble forward, the guard grabbing his shirt and yanking him back. "I'm innocent! Help m…"

 _The figure in the distant shadows pauses in taking another sip and looks up, focusing his gaze on the somewhat alarming distraction before he decides its none of his business and goes back to drowning his sorrows._

Chase's lungs sputter as he's struck once more in the back, his legs buckling and his brain reminding him that he has no more energy as he hasn't eaten or slept in nearly two days! He's bodily dragged down a long, dimly lit hallway and hears shouting, swearing…other sounds he doesn't want to hear anytime soon.

"Where…I want my call! I know my rights!"

But the officer merely offers an evil chuckle in an undertone, muttering something about this is going to be hell for him but says nothing further.

 _This can't…be happening…_ Chase's mind inwardly grunts as he tries in vain to pull himself free. But with his wrists cuffed behind his back and his arms behind held painfully in place by two sets of strong hands – his battle is already in vain. _Maybe the guy outside…he saw you….he doesn't care! No one is coming to your aid! You better get your call or else!_

However, his mind literally explodes with terror and his eyes widen, his body freezing as he's pulled into a room with a large cell before him…barred and filled with angry faces that instantly hush as soon as he enters.

"Welcome to hell Dr. Chase," the officer turns to him with a sneer.

"I get…a phone call."

"Not right now you don't," the officer retorts as he nods to Ntiba. "This…is gonna cool a sick little murderer like you for a while."

"No…no you can't…not in here…" Chase's lips stammer as he's dragged toward a small desk, his ears picking up instant calls directed at him…words that instantly make his stomach sick.

 _"Woooo!"_

 _"Hey pretty boy!"_

 _"What's he done!"_

 _"Come to me pretty boy…I'll make it all better."_

"What is…this place…"

"Police…transfer cell."

"What the hell…I thought we were…I get my phone call right? I need my one call! I have rights!"

 _"Yeah…we all have rights!"_

"You have no rights!" Ntiba turns and shouts at Chase; once again relishing in the obvious fear now surfacing in the scared aquamarine pools before him. Of course he knows there is due process and Chase can only be held for a day or two without actual evidence and would then be released, on bail, into someone's custody. _Who would want him?_ Ntiba inwardly sneers. But he hopes that he can just secure transport to Africa on a plane, take doctor Chase with them, get rid of him and then…he would disappear into a sea of Dibala supporters. _And with Dibala dead…I'd be elected in his place…_ Ntiba's mind inwardly shouts with glee. _I couldn't have planned it better if…if I planned it myself._

A premature victory smile graces his dark lips as he turns to his patsy; the crooked police officer he's paid well and whose days are already numbered and offers him a small nod.

"I…get a call," Chase whispers weakly as the cuffs are finally removed.

"You can call out all you want…inside the cell!" The officer snickers as he seizes Chase's forearm.

Not wanting to seem too scared or…well scared in front of the sea of angry faces watching with hungry eyes, Chase tries to straighten up. But his legs refuse to cooperate and gently buckle; much to the delight of all those watching. Chase's futile struggling comes to a halt as he nears the bars, his heart thudding painfully in his chest as the bars slide open and he's bodily shoved into the large open area, stumbling to his knees and then spinning around just in time to see the bars slam shut – sealing him inside.

"I want my call!"

Chase's hands grip the bars, his stomach sinks and his mind races with fear. But before he can start to really ponder just what kind of trouble he's in, Chase feels hot, stale breath on his damp neck.

"Don't worry pretty boy…you'll like it here."

"But if you want to call out…by al means."

 _HELP ME!_

XXXXXXXX

Foreman reenters the staff lounge at PPTH and spies Chase's bag on the floor and shakes his head. He glances up at Chase's locker and notices the look and frowns, his mind wondering why he'd leave it behind. Of course after they talked he was quite shaken up so maybe he just…up and left? Foreman looks around and when he confirms that Chase isn't there, he takes the bag to House's office, leaves it on the chair Chase usually sits and takes his leave, flipping off the light and telling himself that tomorrow will be a better day – for all of them.

XXXXXXXX

"You're really distracted tonight," Wilson mentions as House looks up from his dinner.

"The Africans…" he huffs and then stops. "I shouldn't get involved.

"That would be a first," Wilson retorts dryly. "What is it?"

"Robert he…I mean Dr. Chase," House softly hisses as Wilson offers him a wondering glance. "I think the kid is in a bit over his head."

"In what way?"

"Should have asked for…it's nothing. Okay how about…something strong for dessert."

"House…"

"It's nothing. I'm sure Dr. Chase has gone home and is resting and everything will be okay tomorrow."

"Robert."

"What?"

"You can call him Robert around me. Sounds kinda…fatherly."

"Fatherly," House chirps. "Right. Anyway back to drinks."

But as much as House tries to push aside the odd feelings growing inside he can't help but wonder how Chase is faring, if he got something to eat and some rest. _Fatherly...not likely...I'm just...curious...if he's okay. That's it...it's nothing more.a_

XXXXXXXX

Despite his rapidly racing heart, Chase is able to step to the side, keeping his worried gaze fixed on the two men in the near distance; one African and the other the crooked police officer. _If I call out again…this can't be…I have rights!_ He does a half turn, this time flinching when a grubby hand reaches out to touch his dirty blond locks.

"You smell good," the gruff voice hisses as Chase's stomach instantly seizes.

 _Show no fear!_ His brain commands. However, he knows he's already failed at that – miserably. He turns around to see all eyes watching him intently.

"What you in for?" One of them asks as Chase's brain races to summon enough energy to keep his body upright.

But in that moment his brain fails to send him words; forcing him instead to somewhat mechanically turn around and stare helplessly down the hallway with a pleading expression.

No help would be forthcoming.

He spies a small corner bench and then heads toward it, telling himself that this is all scare tactic by Ntiba and soon enough he'd be free. However, that wish wasn't to be granted anytime soon. Instead two large men come and sit one on either side…at first he's on the edge and then roughly pushed down until he's helplessly sandwiched in between them.

"He asked you a question earlier!" One of the gruff voice hisses in his ear, leaning in closer and forcing Chase's nose to automatically wrinkle at the offensive smell.

"I think he's shy," the other one comments.

"No need to be shy cuz of us," the first one laughs.

"Like your hair. Rest of you as pretty?"

"Bet it is," the other replies as he licks his lips; Chase's stomach instantly lurching.

Daring to even make a move, Chase tries to push himself up off the bench. To no avail. The first one grabs a handful of his shirt and yanks him back down. At first Chase lands on the man's lap; the rest of them calling out lewd comments.

"LET GO!" Chase demands as he tries to push himself free.

However, instead of making the situation better for himself, he makes it worse. A punch to the other man's face, forces him to react by punching Chase back and then glaring at him as he yanks his belt free.

"I'm next!"

"Now…you're gonna pay for that pretty boy."

Not wanting to have any part of what he knows is about to happen, Chase summons whatever remaining bits of strength he has left. He tries to elbow one of the men in the face, while calling out for help to the guards down the hall.

Neither works and his screams are muffled by angry curses, evil laughter and one whispered vendetta.

* * *

 **A/N** : Yikes! So Ntiba has succeeded right now and Chase is about to be attacked! What happens when House finds Chase's bag but no Chase? What happens when house finds out about Chase? How will both react? and how will this change things for them? House tries to push back on the developing fatherly feelings but I think we all know they'll continue to grow. Hope you all are enjoying the angst and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	5. Who are You?

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 5 – Who are You?**

* * *

 _The figure in the distant shadows pauses in taking another sip and looks up, focusing his gaze on the somewhat alarming distraction before he decides its none of his business and goes back to drowning his sorrows._

However, as much as he tries to push away the image of the young man from his mind…he can't quite seem to silence the desperate cry for help. _You've seen them all…they're all the same…once a junkie always a junkie…always saying they're innocent..,_ his mind incorrectly surmises the reason the young man was being arrested in the first place. But he also knows why he can't just let it go… _the only reason they take guys through that is if…._

"Ah…what the hell," he mutters as he pushes his way through the back doors and enters the stale smelling building.

"Kyle."

He nods hello at the mention of his name and slowly shuffles down the long dimly lit hallway. _There were two African guys and Officer Cogwell…who isn't the most…honest of officers…_

"But…it's none of my business," he states as he nears a T-junction in the hallway. He looks to the right, his eyes resting on the area at the end, his ears trying to drown out the calls for help, the cursing, the shouting and the rest of the vile talk that decorates a place that houses those of ill-repute.

"Just…walk away…"

 _'Help me!'_

He can't get the young blond man's cries for help out of his mind and something inside him reminds him that at one time he took an oath to protect such people. _Just…walk away…_ his brain urges.

Would he listen?

XXXXXXXX

 _Help…me…oh God…please…help me…_

He hadn't intended to throw the first punch but when he did he didn't stop until…he was forced to stop. His arms were roughly yanked behind his back and held in place by two strong arms while another drove their fist into his vulnerable stomach.

He kicked back…with all the force he thought he still had. It wasn't much but still made him feel like he was making a small point. He wasn't. The men holding doing him harm didn't care about his pleas for help and that he didn't belong there, that it was a mistake and he was being falsely accused, that he was innocent and didn't deserve this.

A foul smelling rag was shoved into his mouth after they were tired of hearing him calling for help. Help wasn't coming. Cogwell merely watched with an amused smile on his face while the gruff inmates roughed up the helpless doctor.

His brain tried to block out the words they were saying…about him.

 _'Soft skin…'_

 _'Smells scared…'_

 _'Looks scared…'_

 _'Real pretty though…'_

 _'He's shaking…'_

 _'I'll warm him up…'_

 _'Love the hair…'_

 _'He's mine next…'_

His brain sent him to a place…a place so far inside he was seeing himself as a small child running into his room and shutting away the screaming from his parents…the smell of alcohol lingering in the air and the feeling of inadequacy. But it was his safe place…a place he told himself he was untouchable…the bad people couldn't get him.

Only now…they had him and his life would never be the same.

 _Help…me…oh God…please…help me…_

XXXXXXXX

Kyle approaches the front desk, looking for someone, a friendly face that might be able to help him. _I just want to know…no harm in asking._

"Hey Kyle…"

"Hey have you seen Richard?"

"Yeah in the back. You're actually working?" The uniformed officer asks with a small sneer.

"Thanks," Kyle gently snorts as he pushes past and heads for the evidence room. He nods to another officer as he passes and then spies the person he's searching for. "Hey Rick…"

"Kyle? How are you? Heard about the verdict. Sorry."

"Yeah…me to. Already started to drown my sorrows," he replies with a heavy sigh.

"Kyle…"

"I'm okay. Actually I'm here to…uh…" he pauses as he recalls the disastrous day's events from earlier. His lips pull tightly as he shakes his head, telling himself not to bother getting involved in another person's mess and to just walk away.

"What's…going on?"

"I just need a name. Young man in the back holding tank. Accent…sounds Aussie or something. Said…no…brought in a few hours ago. Just need a name."

The older man looks at him in wonder before slightly pursing his lips. "Never could walk away from a hard luck case huh."

"Just want to know what he's in for. They tossed him in the back with Lewis and Orlando."

"Ouch. Hope he has some good fighting chops."

"Yeah…doubt it. Looked…too manicured. I just need a name."

The older man's salt and pepper brows arch before he finally nods in agreement. "Wait here."

Kyle turns his gaze back down the hallway, in the distance the holding tank that Chase's current nightmare was being played out in.

"Hope he can fight," Kyle mutters.

He'd be wrong. To an extreme degree.

XXXXXXXX

House arrives early the next morning, entering his office with a weary sigh and wondering how the day would unfold. As much as he tried to convince himself and Wilson the night before that he wasn't _that_ worried about Chase and the young Aussie intensivist was probably just sleeping off his own self-purported troubles, Wilson had to call him a few times on using the more personal word…Robert.

 _'That's his first name…'_

 _'You don't even call me by my first name,' Wilson retorted. 'Unless you're angry or about to blackmail me. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying…it's nice. Sounds like you're genuinely…concerned.'_

 _'Concerned means caring. I was just…curious.'_

He tried to argue back, insisting that his interest in _Robert's_ wellbeing was strictly professional and as his boss he had that right. Wilson caught him again.

 _'Ah but you're not his boss right now.'_

And then grinned like the bloody Cheshire cat! Even still…he worries that Dibala's death will emotionally unravel Chase to a point perhaps beyond repair. But as soon as he passes the table he stops and looks. "He's here already?" House mutters as he wanders over to the table and looks at Chase's shoulder bag sitting on the same chair the owner usually occupies. So he goes back to his desk – to wait. Half hour passes but Chase still hasn't made an appearance. Another half hour and his curiosity now gets the best of him. He slowly wanders down to the staff lounge, pushing his way inside and then stopping to listen.

Nothing. He heads to Chase's locker and after glancing around proceeds to open it, his lips snickering at his own cleverness at guessing the combination. He slowly opens it and sees then places the second ducky back on the shelf. _Jacket's still here…bag's upstairs…_ he closes the locker and then goes in search of his youngest duckling. _Odd…._

He checks the lab. Nothing. He checks the clinics. Nothing. He checks the area the Africans are still lingering. Nothing.

But just as he turns to leave, he watches a figure approach and slightly narrows his gaze. He recalls the few interludes between Ntiba and Chase and inner agitation starts to get churned up once more. Ntiba stops at the end of the small hallway and looks at House with a glance of contempt.

"Top of the morning to you too," House quips

"We'll all be leaving today," Ntiba states simply.

"Oh gee and here I wanted to invite the whole kit and caboodle over for a beer to celebrate your presidency by proxy."

"Proxy?"

"You know…acting for another."

"Dibala's dead," Ntiba retorts angrily.

"Then…it was a hostile takeover?" House continues to try to deliberately push his buttons. House expects him to blow up at his persistent and sarcastic nagging and he does…but turns to walk away muttering something that is almost…odd.

"You're _both_ the same."

The words aren't very loud but it's enough for him to stop and look at Ntiba in question. "Pardon? Both?" House asks loudly. But Ntiba doesn't turn back to dignify House with an answer; he keeps his back turned and heads toward two other dignitaries posted outside the PPTH morgue.

"Both…" House grumbles as he takes his leave and heads toward Foreman's office. He peers inside, Foreman looking up in wonder, catching House's gaze and expecting him to say – something. However, when House pulls back and turns to leave, Foreman can't help but leave his desk and hurry after House.

"What's going on?" Foreman asks with some exasperation.

"Playing hide and seek," House answers simply as Foreman shakes his head. "You asked," House adds in sarcasm as Foreman nods in resignation.

"Okay…I'll bite, whose hiding?"

"Robert."

"Dr. Chase?"

"Yes. Dr. Chase! You know…surfer hair, killer smile and pretty looks…but with a dark side," he quips as Foreman's lips purse.

"I'd understand why he's hiding from you."

"I think he's hiding from someone else," House adds stonily. Without waiting for Foreman to reply, House turns on his heel and slowly limps back toward his office, his inner anxiety now going into overdrive. He looks at the time and frowns. He picks up the phone and calls Chase's home number. No answer. But things change when he dials Chase's cell number. It rings. House hears the ringtone and looks up to the chair where Chase's bag is resting.

"Damn boy," he lightly curses as he hangs up his office phone. But he knows that Chase would never be this delinquent with regards to his job. _Where is he?_ So he settles in his mind to wait and see if he shows up for the team meeting and if not…then he'd go to his home and see exactly what's going on. _Maybe one too many run ins with the Africans and he wanted to just…escape?_

Cameron enters and then Foreman and then…Taub. He makes an excuse that Chase is at home sleeping, one that Foreman doesn't buy but knows better than to question House in front of Cameron and Taub. However, he does as soon as the morning meeting is over.

"I don't know. Short of paging him and arousing suspicion I'm going to go over to his home and…"

"You?"

"Well since I'm not in charge right now, I don't have to be here all the time do I?" House counters as Foreman slightly grunts. "I'll let you know what I find."

With that House pulls away from Foreman, grabs his jacket and then turns around to face Foreman with a grin. "I'll be back."

Foreman shakes his head but at the same time knows that after the run in he had with Chase the night before maybe the younger Aussie doctor just needed a day to himself. At the same time his mind travels back to the brief discussion he had with Chase about someone having access to the test results while they weren't in his position. With that thought in his mind, he heads for the security office, wanting to see what he can find.

As House pulls into traffic he can't help but wonder… _where is Robert?_

XXXXXXXX

"Okay took some doing but I found a name…Robert Chase."

Kyle takes the small slip of paper and looks at his friend and would-be guardian with a heavy frown.

"You know…Jack Daniels isn't anyone's real friend," the older man calls him on the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Just a few sips."

"Don't. Now this guy…he's not in the system yet and that worries me. Either it's a very sensitive case or he's…I don't know but tread carefully. Depending on who you piss off…it's a long drop back down to the bottom."

"Thought I was already there," Kyle nods as he takes the slip of paper back and then curls his fist around it.

"If you need help…you just holler. I might not have as much pull these days but down in that holding cell my fist speaks louder than words."

"Might come to that," Kyle nods as he takes the slip and then slowly pulls away. He heads down the hall, his head pounding from having only the vile golden liquid in his system and nothing else.

 _'You lost the case! Draper dies now because of you!'_

 _'It wasn't my fault…the defense…they…'_

The morning's actions still sting in his mind forcing him to softly curse himself and his seeming oversight but as he reaches the end of the hallway and eyes the horrific situation before him, the utter upheaval inside the holding cell, the two guards in the distance not caring and one innocent man in the middle of the melee literally fighting for his life.

"Oh…my God…" Kyle whispers as he sees what he thinks is Robert Chase's limp frame in the hands of…his brain stops and his legs instantly turn and rush back down to the end of the hall. His stomach lurches at what he had just witnessed but his brain is determined. "Rick! RICK!" He shouts, his frantic call bringing the older officer running.

He says no words, the expression on the younger man's face…the younger man he cares for as if he was his own son and knows his presence is needed. He nods, grabs his Taser and baton and hurries after him. Would they get their too late?

Too late for a few things…but not too late to save a life.

"Robert Chase!"

XXXXXXXX

"Robert Chase!"

House pauses after knocking loudly a second time. "Do I really have to pick the lock?" He huffs as he pulls out the spare key he had lifted from Chase's locker. "Okay…coming in!" House calls out as he enters the quiet apartment. "Clean…" House comments as he looks around. "Smells…stale. Robert?"

He hurries into Chase's bedroom, only to look at the neatly manicured bed and his anxiety starts to soar. He looks at his watch and then shakes his head. "Missing…almost…a whole day? Well he didn't just walk away!" House pulls his phone and calls Wilson.

 _"Maybe he's…"_

"He left his phone, wallet…everything at the hospital and his apartment…it's like he hasn't been here in a few days."

 _"You're in his apart…how did…right why am I asking," Wilson groans. "Okay so…who saw him last?"_

"I don't know. I'm heading back."

House stomps toward the front door and then locks it with a huff. "So a guy dies and you run away!" House growls, thinking that Chase might be somewhere sulking. But his brain quickly reminds him… _without his wallet? Where'd he go? A homeless shelter?_

He knows that's not true but it's better than the feeling inside that something terrible happened to his favorite duckling. _Favorite? Yes!_ "Something happened…but what?"

XXXXXXXX

Things had happened so fast he didn't even have time to blink. Veteran officer Richard Simons summoned two others to come with him, both men the same size but with a bit bigger shape to them and about a decade of strength on him; things they'd need to rescue the young Aussie from the holding bin.

As soon as Richard's booming voice is heard, all action inside the holding cell ceases; Cogwell tries to slip into the shadows and the African assistant immediately vacates the area and calls Ntiba on his cell phone. Ntiba's plan was about to take an unexpected and unwanted detour.

Richard tells Kyle to hold back until they have everyone under control; which he does. When the guilty parties responsible for Robert Chase's assault are forced by literal brute force and a few well-placed baton strokes to the floor, Kyle enters the cell, kneels down at Chase's unconscious frame and instantly feels for a pulse.

"He's alive," he whispers in relief as he looks up at Richard with a pleading expression. Being about the same build as the younger man in question, Kyle wasn't able to carry him to safety. Richard does. The other two officers stand guard while he exits the holding cell and then follow, locking it back up and then taking Chase's body to a place to be tended to. He thanks the other officers for their help and then sends them on their way.

"I'll deal with who's in charge," Richard tells Kyle as he hands him a small first aid kit. "These are for the superficial wounds. The others will take a bit more tending to. Just find out if he has someone we can call."

Richard takes his leave, closing the door behind him sealing Kyle and Chase away from prying eyes. Kyle looks at the wounds on Chase's face and winces; his fingers shaking as they reach out to try to help.

"Who can I call?" Kyle whispers. "Who are you?"

XXXXXXXX

"So you basically accuse him of murder and then wonder why he didn't want to come in the next day!" House snaps at Foreman as Wilson looks on in wonder.

"I didn't…look I found something that happens to fit…Chase said he made the call and…"

"That was it?"

"Hold on. He also said that he might have left the test results alone for a bit but he wasn't sure," Foreman stammers. "I have to ask the tough questions."

"Way to go!"

"Look I'm sure he's just…"

"Missing!" House interjects angrily; Wilson taking note of House's unusually agitated protection toward the missing Aussie. "He wouldn't run away without his wallet!"

"Okay so…" Foreman sighs as he rubs his face.

"Wait…did you say these were alone for any length of time?"

"I don't know for sure," Foreman replies heavily. "I found these test results and his signature and thought it was case closed but he…he cast some doubt on it by saying he left it alone and maybe someone else might have tampered with them."

"Okay…" House starts and then pauses. "You…you have to figure out which is right. Did someone have time to access those results…someone on the inside who maybe wanted Dibala out of the way? An inside agenda? Maybe either blamed Chase or changed them to set Chase up? Seeing that and acting upon it and then using Chase as the perfect patsy?"

"One of the Africans?" Wilson pipes up.

"It's not a farfetched idea!"

"Okay I'll get on it. And what are you going to do?" Foreman questions House.

"Find my missing duckling…wherever he is."

Foreman takes his leave; Wilson nearing House with a worried expression.

"Do you think Chase killed Dibala on purpose?"

"I…I don't know. Maybe he wanted to but then…he's not a murderer. We're all capable of…but no…I think one of those African's did it! However, we need to find Robert before…we just need to find him."

"We?" Wilson questions.

"We," House replies firmly as he looks at his watch. "It's been almost a whole day and…"

"You're worried."

"Sick," House confesses in a deft whisper. "And I have no idea even where to start looking. He has no money…no phone and he…he would have called if…" House pauses and then tries to swallow.

But before either of them say another word, House's phone rings and he's quick to answer.

 _"Hello. Is this Doctor House?"_

"Yes…who's this?"

 _"Do you know Robert Chase?"_

* * *

 **A/N:** so you all know I like my OCs and I always want a friend for Chase and one who isn't the same as one I've had before. Since my baddie is based around a canon character (Ntiba) my OC will be Chase's ally and I hope you all like Kyle as much as me and Alice. As usual he won't be the focus b/c the focus is always House/Chase but you might see him and Richard again in the future (does he and Kyle remind you of another father/son pairing ;) so what has Chase really endured? How will House react when he finally finds Chase? How will Chase react when he sees House at the jail? And how will House/Chase get their justice? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	6. Rescue from the Abyss

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 6 – Rescue from the Abyss**

* * *

 _"Do you know Robert Chase?"_

Of course he does…that's the very person in question that they all are looking for but…now to hear someone…a stranger's voice ask in a such a grave tone, he's almost afraid to answer…afraid of the answer he'll get in return. _Snap out of it!_ His brain scolds as he looks at Wilson with a heavy frown, Wilson mouth – _who is it?_

"Yes…I know Robert Chase. What's this about? What's going on? Who are you?"

 _"Me? I'm…no one, but he's here with me. We're at the 24_ _th_ _street precinct in the basement and…"_

"Robert was arrested?" House questions with a groan; Wilson's expression changing to surprise. "What the hell did he do? I'm on my way down..."

 _"Okay but he..."_

"What's going on?" Wilson asks after House hangs up abruptly; not hearing the rest of the details that were following.

"Robert's gone and got himself arrested! Guy said he was well he didn't say…ah damn kid probably wandered to the nearest bar, got himself hammered and then started a fight."

"Chase in a holding cell…" Wilson ponders as House's lips purse.

"I know…he'd never last. Come on…"

"Me? I actually can't. House…just go easy on the boy."

"Deserves a good thrashing for acting like that. So some dictator dies. Big deal!" House's voice angrily snaps. But at the same time Ntiba and another African aide walk past on the way to Cuddy's office; House and Ntiba exchanging narrowed gazes for a few seconds before the angry African dignitary continues on his way.

"Making friends wherever you go."

House doesn't answer, instead he grabs his jacket and Chase's bag and then stomps out of the room, Wilson shaking his head in exasperation; not knowing inside who to feel sorrier for. Oh he knows Chase will get an earful, but he's pretty sure House's inner emotional tsunami won't subside anytime soon.

"Gets himself arrested!" House grumbles as he gets into his car and then starts it up and leaves the parking lot. "Robert…really what the hell were you thinking!"

House's agitation continues to gain momentum, reaching a near plateau when he reaches the underground parking of the police station and pulls into a stall, slamming the gear shaft into Park and looking for his wallet. "I should make him pay for his own bailout," he grimaces as he for a second ponders bringing Chase's wallet into the station House.

Instead he pushes himself from the car and heads toward the small back door as directed. He slowly limps down the hallway, nearing the end and the holding cell where Chase had been and instantly wrinkles his nose. "Smells like…stupidity," he huffs as a few of the battered inmates look at him in disdain.

Since Cogwell had been dismissed by Simons, House merely offers a nod to the new officer and then carries on his way; his determined and rather irritated look telling all in his path to stand down – or else. "Where is that damn boy…" House huffs as he nears the other hallway that would take him to his final destination.

"Dr. House?"

"Yes…officer…"

"Simons. Richard Simons."

House looks at the older man and frowns; the man standing about his height with a bit more weight on him lightly chuckles. "You're missing the fro," House quips; referring to the well-known American Fitness Guru.

"His name has 2 N's…and yeah…no fro. Blame my parents for that. I have to explain it every time," Simons retorts, adding that its pronounced SIME-ons not SIMM-ons; House shrugging as they continue on their way.

"Are you my escort?" House asks impatiently.

"Robert…is he your…"

"What's he done?" House gently demands, the older man beside him heavily frowning. "That bad?"

"Do you know why he was brought in?"

"No. I assumed disorderly conduct. Why else? He's not got a criminal bone in his body! Doubt he'd steal anything. Unless he was broke, which he shouldn't be!"

"Step or adoptive?" Simons asks stonily.

"What?" House retorts.

"Your son…assumed he's your boy. Different last name. Figured I'd ask. 'sides…you sound like his father," Simons retorts lightly as House's lips purse. "And not too many grown men carry around this…in their pocket, unless it was something special to them."

Just before they reach the door to the room Chase is being tended to, they pause and House looks at the small and now badly scuffed object in Simons grasp. _Special? Ducky?_

"I uh…where did you find that?"

"He was clutching it uh…well during the um…the brawl."

"He…was?" House asks weakly as Simons hand rests on the knob.

"Now whatever beef you have with your boy…just go easy on him. He's uh…"

"Just open the damn door!" House snaps as Simons readily complies.

First House expected to open the door and see Chase sitting there with a sheepish grin on his face, spouting off a few dozen lame excuses as to why he was arrested, embarrassed and had to call for help.

Maybe he expected to see Chase a bit roughed up but after having seen the other guys and knowing Chase couldn't do that kind of damage figured he might have sustained a black eye or fat lip…maybe a bloody nose and would look roughed up.

But he never expected…imagined…or wanted what he's about to see. Simons slowly opens the door and House's eyes are once again forced to adjust to the dim lighting; his nose picking up the scent of men…sweat and blood.

But as soon as his eyes focus on his youngest duckling his stomach literally seizes and his heart sinks lower than he ever thought possible.

"Oh…my…God," House whispers in horror as Simons nods.

Chase was lying on his side, in the fetal position, whimpering and despite being covered with a small blanket, House could see his shirt was torn, his undershirt torn and bloody and his jeans torn and…bloody.

"Who did this?" House asks in an angry hiss. "Who! This can't…oh God this can't be happening."

"Some of the inmates," Kyle replies in a soft whisper.

House looks at the younger man to his right who had been kneeling at Chase side and then slowly stood up. "You called me?" House asks Kyle nods. "What the hell happened? Why was he arrested? By who! For what?" House demands in haste.

"He was entered into the system…we don't know much," Kyle replies in truth as he looks at Simons with a flushed face. "I had a hard time trying to find…I'm sorry I didn't get to him sooner."

"I took care of the inmates who attacked him."

 _Attacked…what the…House's mind spirals into darkness…his brain failing to send words to his mouth for the first time in probably his life. He was attacked because he was falsely accused and…_

"What um…what else?"

"He'll have to tell you…or us," Simons pauses. "He won't say a word…that is when he's actually conscious. In and out of that for the few hours now."

House looks down at the marred piece of plastic in his grasp and outwardly grimaces. _He kept his ducky…he…_ he quickly chokes back a sniff and then looks up with a hardened expression.

"I need to know who did this," he directs his query to Simons. "Who… _attacked_ him."

"Working on that now. He wasn't booked properly so that tells me…"

"He's not a criminal!" House interjects sharply. But as soon as his voice rises, Chase's body flinches and another whimper escapes his cut lips. "I need to take him home. Am I allowed?"

"We don't even know why he was here in the first place," Simons replies as Kyle remains silent. "He was never booked," Simons shrugs in remorse.

"I…" Kyle starts and then stops when House's angry glare fixes on him. "I saw him…being brought in but…I didn't know at first. He said he was innocent but so many do and I just…" Kyle rattles off anxiously, his worried blue eyes threatening to water. "I'm sorry."

"The ones that brought him in. Regular officers?" House demands

"One was and he was…sent home," Kyle replies as he looks at Simons who nods in confirmation. "The others…it was a black car and I didn't recognize the men. Sorry."

"Where they…black…African?" House dares to ask.

"They…could have been…from Africa," Kyle slightly shrugs as House's eyes narrow.

"I'll see if I can get the parking camera."

"This wasn't an arrest! It was a damn kidnapping!"

House's voice rises once more and once again Chase's body flinches, his mind not wanting to wake up from this hellish nightmare but remain in the blissful darkness until…

"I'll give you a few minutes to just…talk to him and tell him what's going to happen," Simons tells House as he ushers Kyle out of the small room.

House stands at a distance from the younger man's body, lying motionless on the small, hard bed. He doesn't move, blink…breathe or even dare to think this might be a dream. He hears a soft whimper…something crossed between a sob and a gasp and his heart starts to ache with feelings he never imagined he'd be entertaining…well…ever.

"Robert?"

Chase hears the voice….the ringing in his hears and the pounding in his head lessening a bit more and allowing him to clearly hear House's voice. He slightly shifts…his weary eyes, one swollen badly and tries to look up. The image is hazy and he tells himself it's not real. But then his mind starts to race with added agitation that it really is House and he's been found…well like this.

"Don't…tell House," Chase whispers in misery as his watery close a few seconds later. "Please."

The request is so soft…tormented…and instantly brings a tear to House's already watery eyes. However, he knows he's not about to just send Chase away into the care of a strange ER physician or somebody else. _I was called for a reason…I have to do this._

"I've come to take you home."

"Home…"

House steps into the hallway and looks at Kyle with a stern expression. "Can he stand?" House asks in a softer tone.

Simons steps forward and with a swift motion scoops Chase up in his grasp and cradles him before House. "Where's your car?"

House looks at Chase's swollen face and then up at Simons and clenches his jaw as Chase offers a painful gasp. He then feels himself in the grasp of a man again and starts to squirm.

"Robert," House's voice starts out firm and then softens. "You'll be…okay," House states with some hesitation as his hand reaches out and rests on Chase's shoulder. It lingers a bit longer than expected, his mind marveling for a few seconds how Chase's shivering eases under his touch. "Right…" House clears his throat as both strangers stare at him in wonder. "Uh…parking lot."

"We'll get to the bottom of this. I give you my word," Simons promises as Kyle looks at Chase in remorse. "Could be brothers," Simons comments quietly as House glances at Kyle, merely nodding at the physical similarities before looking back at Chase and then slowly following Simons out the door.

"Officer Simons…"

"Rick."

"Rick…the um…the brawl you spoke of. Will there be any repercussions to the inmates who uh…" he stops. " _Attacked…_ him?"

"At this point…I can only hope the backup cameras were working otherwise…I'll let you know."

"Right," House growls with some indignation. "Just lay him in the back…on his side. I'll do an assessment and see if…well how badly he's injured."

"Okay… I'll be by tomorrow," Simons agrees in truth. "For his statement."

House's face outwardly cringes as Chase's lips utter a small cry when he's placed in the back on the back seat, still wrapped in a blanket. The door closes and he looks at Simons and then Kyle with a somewhat blank stare. "I…thank you," House offers in a small tone.

"Here I…if you need any kind of well…legal help," Kyle offers with a small stammer as he extends to House his hand with his business card and then pulls back with a heavy frown. "I'm sorry."

"Call if you need anything," Simons states as he too hands House his police card. "Now…you know I'll need to talk to him…get an official statement."

"Okay," House agrees almost reluctantly; his tone, however, an underlying hiss of revenge.

"We have someone on the inside who gave us the uh…what happened but we need your son's statement to…well a con's word doesn't hold too much weight."

"Someone…helped him?" House manages weakly.

"From what he told Kyle. I'll come by tomorrow."

"Okay."

House takes the two small objects, shoves them into his pocket and then turns back to look at the still figure in the back of his car with a racing heart. He had made a few off handed jokes to Wilson and even on the drive over and now…now guilt starts to eat away at him for not doing something sooner.

For a second he contemplates calling Wilson or taking him to see someone in the ER but as he pulls the little ducky from his pocket and stares at the silly little piece of plastic his eyes threaten to water. He utters a frustrated curse and then tries to come up with a solution to get Chase some help without getting himself emotionally attached. He knows it's moot…a losing battle…he's already emotionally invested and he knows it.

With his heart racing at top speed, House slowly eases himself into his car, at first remaining facing forward but then slowly turning around to see his quarry in the back. He grimaces. He can't help it. The site sickens and saddens him in exactly the same moment.

"Robert…" House starts in a soft remorse-filled tone. "I'm sorry."

But his heart can only shatter further when the bluish skin around his left eye instantly moistens and a few soft tears escape the corner of his eyes and run down his scuffed and flushed face. And as Chase's tear-inflated eyes slowly open and look at House; silently begging for help and asking to be alone at the same time, House knows he can't take him anywhere but home.

"Take…me…home," Chase begs softly as House shakes his head and then carries on with his question.

"I uh…is…is anything…broken?" House manages as Chase just stares at him in misery. "One of the officers…he said he didn't think so…but…but if there is I need to take…you to the ER."

He looks at Chase's lips moving but has to lean in closer in order hear the one tormented word that is offered in truth.

"No."

"Okay…nothing broken…" House stops and looks at Chase once more. "I know you didn't want me here…to see you like this but…but now that I have I'm going to take care of you and that's final. A…a strange ER doctor wouldn't treat you with the same care so…so yes I've seen you and you've seen me and now that we have that settled let's…go home. I need to get you tended to and I don't…trust anyone else to do it right."

Chase's eyes remaining open before he finally realizes he's safe and closes his eyes. House is about to tell him something more when Chase literally starts to cry. His body at first starts to convulse and House quickly turns on the engine and then turns up the heat. As much as he doesn't want to leave; wants to linger in a stationary position a bit longer, he knows he needs to get Chase somewhere safe, warm and get him treated and then to rest.

However, before he does he calls Foreman and asks if the African delegation is still there.

 _"I can check. Did you find Chase?"_

"Yes he was…wrongly arrested and…attacked."

 _"What? Is he okay?"_

"Pretty rough shape. I'll take him home and make sure he's okay. I have no proof yet but I think Ntiba is responsible for this."

 _"I'll see what's going on and get back to you."_

"Make sure he doesn't leave!"

House hangs up with Foreman and then looks at Chase and huffs. "Ntiba did this right?" He asks. Once again Chase doesn't have to answer; the fresh, silent tears and small nod tell him all he needs to know. The truth. "Figured….bastard! Well he won't get away with this. There were…cameras and…okay, we're leaving now."

Chase's eyes squeeze shut and he tries to focus on something…anything that sounds different than his…rapidly beating heart; his brain desperate to drown out the words…the names…the threats…the actions that followed the words. He remembers balling his fists…trying to fight back as best he could. He was hit…with fists…and then…

House hears a whimper and then stops the car and turns back to see what's going on. "Robert…" He looks at the clenched fists, the locked jaw and the quivering lips; his mind racing to find the proper words to offer comfort to his youngest duckling. But he can't…there are no words…nothing he can say to his youngest duckling to reassure him that life is going to go back to normal. It wouldn't ever be normal again.

 _What do I do…I gotta call Wilson or…no…_ his brain pushes back. _He's just experienced one of the worst traumas anyone can ever experience...he needs you, maybe now…more than ever._

"Stop…"

"What?" House asks over his shoulder.

"Need…to stop…" Chase begs in misery.

"I'm not letting you…" House replies, thinking that maybe Chase was giving in to self-pity and wanting to be dropped off or taken to the ER. Instead he ears Chase's lungs starting to gasp and heave and knows the younger man needs to throw up. He hurriedly opens the door and helps Chase slide forward and throw up some watery bile.

"Okay…easy does it. There you go…lie down and just…rest."

Chase's eyes don't open…his head nods simply but he remains on his side, trying to tell himself it's all a nightmare and it needs to end…he needs to wake up.

But as soon as he hears House's voice telling him…

"Okay…I'll…examine you at home. Just to be sure…if anything else happened."

He knows the nightmare is real and his body starts to shudder harder.

"Right…" House mutters as he nears his apartment. He pulls into the underground parking lot and then stops his car, turns around to Chase and feels his countenance drop. He slowly gets out and heads around to the back and slowly opens the door. "I can't carry you in so…I can call Wilson but I think if you can help me walk…it'll be better."

"Hurts," Chase whispers as he looks up with a terrified expression.

"I know…I know it's going to hurt but it's just upstairs and we'll go from there."

Chase looks up at House but remains in place. As much as he knows this is going to hurt the younger man and the last thing he wants to do is inflict more pain on him he knows he has to be firm. He bites back the anger at himself when Chase starts to cry out but knows he has to get him out of the cold car and upstairs.

"Come on," House states softly as he wraps his jacket around Chase's lithe frame. They slowly limp toward the waiting elevator and both have the same question on their mind…

 _What happens next?_

* * *

 **A/N:** So….since I completed this update a few days ago…a few personal things have happened. Due to some sudden trauma and deep personal stress I am going to slightly tweak the direction of this story. I know I had hinted at Chase being full on assaulted and I had planned on that but at this time I'm not emotionally ready to take the story down that dark a path so instead of just having it there and kinda glossing it over b/c that won't be fair to the fictional trauma or the aftermath, I am going to forego and you'll all see what really happened to Chase up next (it'll still be pretty traumatic for him me thinks). I hope I haven't disappointed too many and I hope none leave but if you want to I'll have to understand. So I just tweaked this update and the next and again I hope you all still enjoyed this update. (PS: I still have the darker journey on my writing board so have not written it out for a future idea).

As the main focus of this story was always the Chase being framed for murder for Dibala and the danger with Ntiba is still very much real and will def factor going forward and trust me there will be more Chase danger/whump ahead and lots of father/son bonding moments and lots of angsty emotion for House's fatherly feelings to surge. Please do review before you go with your thoughts (b/c you are all so important to me and I do value them) and thanks so much!


	7. The Longest Night

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 7 – The Longest Night**

* * *

As soon as they reach the floor House's apartment is on, Chase's legs start to slight buckle and House's grasp around his waist tightens, even more than he thought possible. "Just a bit more," House tells him in a firm but quiet tone; not wanting to awaken his neighbors and risk any wondering questions directed to Chase in his current condition. He fumbles with the key that he had placed in his front pocket for easy use when he got to his front door and gently props Chase's faltering frame on the side and then slowly opens his door.

"I can uh…spare room and then…we'll get you checked over and…" House whispers as they slowly enter his apartment. _Don't sound so clinical…he's been through hell! Try to be…kind…concerned…empathetic!_

"Home…" Chase tries as he's helped into House's bedroom. "I can go…my…home."

"It's easier for me to treat you here," House tells Chase in truth.

"Don't want…burden."

"I'll make you buy dinner," House retorts as he leans his cane against the nearby dresser and then helps Chase gently the last few feet to the bed and then stops. "Lie on your side," he mechanically dictates and then looks at Chase with a frown. "Sorry…I know you know that…I just…I need to see…get you to relax or…"

Chase's lips automatically offer a whimper as he slowly lowers himself down onto the soft bed but then quickly flips onto his side and looks up in defeat. "I didn't…." he starts as House slowly lowers himself down to a seated position beside Chase's legs; covering him with a blanket to stop him from shiver.

"You didn't….what?"

"No…phone call. Didn't get…my phone call."

As House looks at Chase, his emotions continue to collide with each other in his mind…and heart; trying to determine if compassion would win out over common sense. _Let your heart take the lead this time…not your head,_ a small voice inside struggles to be heard.

"You need to get cleaned up but…but I want to preserve the uh…the evidence if I can."

Chase looks up mutely, his expression one of boyish vulnerability and forcing House's internal fatherly feels to surge. But when House slowly stands back up and then tries to remove Chase's torn shirt, Chase's instinct is to fight back and he does.

"Okay so…you're safe here. Do you believe me?" House asks directly.

Chase nods.

"Do you think I'll hurt you?"

Chase remains still and then finally squeezes his eyes shut and slowly shakes his head. However, a few seconds later he feels something placed into his palm and slowly opens his watery eyes and stares at the little yellow ducky – his ducky. House had cleaned it up and now it was coming back to him.

"This is my ducky…yours is in the sauna right now," House lightly quips. "Hold onto him for me…just for a few minutes while I uh…" House pauses and then slumps down on a nearby chair and looks at Chase in remorse. "I'm the wrong person to do this."

Chase's eyes open wide, even the left with the swelling and look at House in wonder.

"But seeing you like this…I know if I take you to the ER then…even if I call in a favor, they won't…" House's voice trails off as he watches Chase's eyes drop to the ducky and his fingers tighten around it. "I need to check you over. I know it's going to hurt but I have to push past that and so do you. I know you are feeling weak and vulnerable and…"

"Sick," Chase interjects with a soft whisper as House nods.

"Sick," House acknowledges. "So I don't know what happy place you have to tell yourself to go to but…but you have to okay?"

Chase watches House lean in closer and suddenly his body starts to quiver a bit more.

"Robert…I have to do this," House tells him in a calm but firm tone. Chase hears the use of his first name in such a way from House that can't help himself but _want_ to trust the older man now tending to him. But when House once again tries to remove Chase's shirt he notices his limbs starting to shake and stops.

He pulls back and then turns on a small CD player and Chase can't help but look up in amusement.

"His music mellows me," House admits as Chase's body finally starts to relax. The music coupled with the heat now turned up all the way to make the room warmer than normal, help his body to relax and his mind to try to focus on something….anything but his current plight.

"First…I'll do a once over to see if anything is truly broken," House states as he starts with Chase's legs and then carefully moves up. But as suspected, once he reaches Chase's groin area, the younger man instantly kicks out, nearly hitting the older diagnostician's leg and causing some harm. House pulls back in time and Chase's eyes widen in fear.

"Sorry," Chase offers in haste.

"Understandable after what you've been through," House replies as he leans back down. "But I have to continue." He knows he could give in but he reasons that it could do more psychological harm to leave him bathed in sweat, dirt, blood and possibly semen. "Ribs are…tender. Definitely bruised," House comments as Chase whimpers when House's hands press down on his chest. "But…doesn't feel like anything broken."

"No," Chase admits in truth.

"And…up I go," House tells Chase in a softer tone as he feels a few more tender spots on his chest; Chase's face wincing heavily but subsiding as House's hands move higher. He looks at the marks around Chase's neck, jaw and mouth and feels his anger surging once more. _Choked…hit…gagged…silenced…damn animals need to be shot!_

Without warning, House pulls back and then slowly leaves the room, Chase's brow furrowing as he watches him leave and then closes his eyes and sinks back into the now warming bed, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders and for the first time in hours feels his body starting to expel whatever fluid emotion, his waning strength would allow.

House returns about five minutes later, entering the room and instantly feels his heart sink as he notices Chase's body shuddering. _Probably the first time he's…cried._ He knows despite his horrific ordeal, Chase wouldn't have allowed himself to cry in front of all those… _ANIMALS!_

Chase quickly sniffles and then looks up, pausing in his crying and then trying to put on a brave face for House.

"It's okay to cry," House replies softly as he slowly eases himself back down to the bedside; a small cup in his grasp. "I always hear them say that."

"Didn't think…was original."

House offers Chase a gentle smile before he leans in closer with the cup; his right hand tenderly resting on his back while his left holds the cup and helps him drink. "A mild sedative. I have to examine you. You know that. And then when I have taken what I need…we'll get you a shower and…something to eat?"

"Not…hungry."

"Okay we'll worry about the meal later."

Chase's body starts to relax under the strength of the sedative, his mind trying to tell him that it will be okay and House will be gentle. But as soon as he feels a cool air on his back where his shirt is lifted up…he panics.

"I can put you under," House comments softly. "But I have to do this. Would you feel better if…maybe another doctor were to do it? One who isn't…your soon to be boss again?"

"Just…hurry," Chase implores as he squeezes his eyes shut and clutches ducky a bit more tightly. The cool breeze on his back reappears once more and his trembling intensifies.

 _'Such a pretty thing…aww shivering? I'll warm you up!'_

He feels House's hands moving lower…

 _'This boy is perfect for…'_

His body starts to shudder; despite House's calming and soothing tone his mind starts to full relive the horror he forcefully was subjected.

 _'Nice and tight…must work out…'_

His eyes flood…his chest starts to heave and his heart beat painfully in his chest.

 _'He's mine! I want to be the first…'_

His fist squeezes the ducky and his brain…while trying to hold onto House's soothing tone can only force him to hear ugly words and damning curses.

 _'This will…there helpless and silenced! I like when you struggle…'_

Chase's chest starts to heave further…his lungs gasping and if not for House's quick thinking would be tossing up watery bile on his bed and floor. "Sorry…" Chase huffs as he slumps down in defeat. "House…"

"I'm done."

"Already?" Chase manages as House grabs a nearby tissue and gently dabs Chase's flushed cheeks and nose.

"Okay so…"House starts with a heavy frown.

"How…bad?"

"I'll just come out and say it…you weren't sexually assaulted."

"What but…"

"There is some bruising around…certain areas but…but the normal damage from male assault victims is…well missing not to put too fine a point on it. I know this is painful and Officer Simons said he would have to come today and get your full statement but…" House stops as Chase's eyes look up in wonder. "But I doubt you'd want to tell it twice. So I'll…"

"I passed out."

"What?" House stops and then turns around to face Chase.

"I fought…as hard as I could…as long as I could and then…I was bound and…and I was on one of their lap's and…"

"Oh God…" House states in quiet misery.

"They said things…" Chase starts once more.

 _'There…nice and warm for ya…'_

Chase's eyes squeeze shut as he recalls himself pulled back onto his butt after being forced over the back of a chair and then biting back a whimper into the stale rag between his teeth.

 _'Want me to…'_

 _'No…I like him all helpless and quiet like this…'_

Chase's mind recalls the dirty finger playing with his flushed face…his jaw…his hair…tugging at the gag but not taking it out…jerking his bound arms in the air but not releasing him. Just…holding him on his lap and relishing in his captive misery.

"They started to touch…everywhere…all laughing and…and then as their hands uh…moved lower…" Chase's voice dies out into a hoarse whisper as his body starts to buckle once more.

"When did you eat last?"

"Two…days ago."

House curses himself as Chase throws up once more; the younger man's stomach rebelling from the mild sedative and lack of food.

 _'I think I'll just hold him for a bit…like feeling him struggle, knowing he can't go anywhere…'_

 _'ENOUGH!'_

"But…just before I passed out…one…came to my…aid."

"What?" House asks in surprise as his hand rests on Chase's blazing brow.

"They argued…and then fought and then…when I was uh…I passed out and woke up…in the small room."

"Simons will ask for details on who helped and who…hurt. I can't do this anymore," House admits as he pulls the blanket up over Chase's shoulders. "I know you need a shower and something to eat but I think you should rest first. I wouldn't want you falling in the hot water or passing out."

Then his hand does something rather odd…something it did at the jailhouse, it reaches up and rests on Chase's flushed cheek. Once again his something soothing touch seems to calm Chase's quivering and the younger man goes still.

"Rest now," House whispers as he takes his leave from the room. He turns back and looks at the person asleep a few meters away – the picture of pity and vulnerably and his mind races. _I'll get to the heart of this…I'll find the truth and I'll find the person responsible for this horror – the one who sent him there in the first place!_

About twenty minutes later, House hears a few soft snores coming from Chase's bruised lips and dares to pull away from the bed; Chase slightly whimpering at the movement but thankfully not fully awakening. He pulls his phone and makes the first of two calls.

"Find Ntiba?" House demands of Foreman; not caring that it's well into the evening.

 _"No…apparently he left for the airport a few hours ago."_

"Figures," House hisses.

 _"How's Chase?"_

"He….he thought he had been assaulted."

 _"Oh no…what?"_

"But when I examined him…there wasn't uh….no evidence. Just a lot of bruising and finger marks, scratches and…but no outright assault."

 _"That's a relief! So…what happens now?"_

"There is an officer coming by tomorrow to take his full statement but I want the one who had him falsely arrested! Are any of the African's left?"

 _"One and he's claiming he knew nothing. He wasn't able to evade our security in time. Saw some of the security footage and the first security tapes do show two of the Africans in the same area as Chase was the morning he took the test results from the morgue."_

"So…it could have been Ntiba or whoever…I'll bet that bastard wanted to bump off Dibala long ago and found the means and the opportunity with us and Dr. Chase. What is our recourse?"

 _"I'm working with security to see if we can narrow down anything further. I'll tell the team that Chase was mugged and he'll be back in…"_

"Not sure yet. Keep me posted."

House hangs up with Foreman and then turns and looks back at his bedroom door, his mind now waging an inner battle between revenge and comfort. _Should I go after Nbita or…_ his mind ponders before he quickly pulls Simons card from his pocket and dials the veteran officer.

"I know it's late but…are you able to stop someone at the airport for me? Or at least try?"

 _"The man who attacked your boy?"_

"The one who put him there in the first place!"

 _"Who?"_

House goes on to give Simons all the details about Ntiba, ending with a brief update on Chase's condition before thanking him and then hanging up. Then he calls Wilson.

 _"What do you need?" Wilson asks somewhat wearily; but always alert when House calls at an odd hour._

"A time machine," House replies in sarcasm. "I don't know…I just…I can't leave him but right now I want to get to the airport and stop Ntiba before he gets on plane and beat him to death with my cane."

 _"Not that he wouldn't deserve it but…"_

"Yes I called the cops. Just…not the same. He has to pay…he has to pay for what he did!" But when House hears Chase cry out his tone drops but his heart rate increases. "Yes that was Robert…I have to go. I have the spare key for his apartment and I need…he needs new clothes…something fresh to wear. Something…I don't know…I hate seeing him like this. I want him to stand up and tell me a stupid joke and then march out of here laughing at my expense. Right now…he's so helpless and vulnerable and I just…I'm conflicted. Come and get the key," House rattles before he hangs up on Wilson and then heads back toward his bedroom.

As soon as he sees Chase rolled onto his other side, his brain correctly discerns the reason for the whimper and feels his entire frame sag into the doorframe; he might have not been outright assaulted but even being touched there…groped…painfully touched with the threat of being assaulted would be almost just as horrible. He looks at the slightly shivering frame and feels his heart sink once more, his frame kept in place, almost unafraid to move in closer. _Do I tell him about Ntiba missing?_

He decides against it as he slowly lowers himself back down onto the bed. With Chase rolled onto the other side, House is able to pull both legs onto the bed and rest for a few moments. _What the hell do I say? You'll be alright…? It wasn't that bad….? Coulda been worse…? Well it could have been worse. Things will go back to normal…? In a few days you'll be home and back at work and…?_

"Do you think me…weak?"

"What?" House asks Chase slowly twists his head to look at House; his body finally following so he's back on his side looking up at House.

"I tried…to fight back."

"I believe you," House replies and then stops. "Wish I had been there to stop it."

"Ntiba…he ambushed me...at work."

"Bastard," House curses as his hand nears Chase's face. When he sees the younger man flinch, his hand pauses in mid-air and then retreats. "You know I'd never hurt you right?"

"Sorry."

"Just wanted to see…" House starts and then continues on his original course by picking off a small piece of dirt that had been embedded on Chase's cheek. "What this was…nothing."

"What…happens now? Did you find Nbita? Did he confess?" Chase asks; instantly foiling House's plan to keep it a under wraps a few hours longer so as not to add to Chase's emotional pain.

"I texted Officer Simons and he went to the airport to stop Ntiba. And Kyle…the young attorney who found you…"

"What? Attorney?"

"He didn't know your story at first but I'm glad he stepped in when he did."

"Me too," Chase agrees softly.

"Now you need to rest. The worst is over and you need…"

"I need a shower. I need…this smell…the feeling…off me."

"You're still too weak."

"If I fall…it'll be…my fault," Chase groans as he rolls onto his back. But when he heavily winces he quickly turns back and earns a soft tongue lashing from House.

"It would hurt me to see you fall and hurt yourself," House replies firmly. But when Chase's expression morphs back into that of boyish innocence, it tugs at House's heartstrings and he can't…say no. "But…I understand you wanting to get…back to at least smelling like you."

"Thank you," Chase manages in a hoarse whisper.

"Wait here. I'm going to get everything ready and then I'll come get you. Five minutes…and then back to bed to rest and get your strength. Tomorrow you'll have a proper shower. No arguing."

Chase offers House a small nod and watches House leave the room. _You can't burden him with everything…get up and get that shower yourself!_ His brain states as he rolls back onto his back. His eyes squeeze as fresh tears form from the attack, the lower half of his body rebelling and wanting him to roll back onto his side and wait for House. He bites back a painful pang as he pushes himself upright, holding onto the side of the dresser to steady himself; frantically praying for the dizzying to stop.

House readies the bathroom as much as he can, turning the water onto warm and laying out a pair of his own pajamas until Wilson had arrived with a bag of Chase's personal clothing. He heads back toward his bedroom, stopping short under the door frame.

He looks at the empty but crumbled bed before him, his eyes widening in horror. "Robert!"

* * *

 **A/N:** I know some have left and I felt that would happen but I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and for your continued support and I'm so glad that you're all still with me on this new journey! It really means a lot to me as does your feedback! So still lots of physical and emotional trauma for Chase to recover from with the hint of danger from his new enemy still lurking. Will Simons get Ntiba in time? Where has Chase gone and how will his and House's bond change now as each day passes? Would love your thoughts and thanks so much!


	8. Facing the Truth

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 8 – Facing the Truth**

* * *

"Didn't want…to burden you," Chase's soft voice is heard; House quickly turning around to look at the younger man using the wall for support. "I took…a Gravol…don't want to…throw up again," he huffs as House nears him.

Chase's brow furrows as House's fingers gently rest under his chin and then start to slowly feel along the bruised jawline.

"I just want to see…if…does this hurt?" House asks softly; Chase nodding in silence.

"I fought back…" Chase insists in a tormented whisper as his eyes threaten to water.

"Do you believe what I told you earlier?" House looks at Chase in wonder. "That you weren't…uh fully assaulted?"

Chase quickly nods and then tries to move past. But his hasty actions prove faulty as his legs start to buckle and House is quick to take supportive action. However, much to House's surprise Chase pushes back and then looks at House with a watery, flushed gaze.

"I FOUGHT BACK!" Chase shouts as his chest starts to burn, House standing fixed in place and looking at Chase in concern. "I fought…back. I…" Chase's voice quivers as he remains in place, his eyes burning with a few angry tears. "I have bruised and cut…knuckles…" Chase's chest heaves as his legs threaten to buckle. "I fought…back with all…all I had."

"I know you did. You were outnumbered," House states simply. "None of this was your fault."

"I fought back," Chase repeats with a deft whisper as House's heart starts to ache.

"You're shivering and about to fall down and I don't want you to hurt yourself more. The shower will hurt some of those open cuts but…I hate to see you like this and I know this might sound like an insensitive ass but the bruises will heal. The worst…was averted."

"Sounds…like you," Chase retorts as his expression softens. "I want them…the smell…everything…I want it all off."

"Okay. Come with me…I'll warm up the shower and you can just…I'd say I should be in the room just in case you get light headed and feel faint but after what you have just been through I'll understand you wanting privacy," House tells Chase in a softer tone.

Chase nods and then lets House help him take him by the elbow and help him slowly shuffle the few meters toward the bathroom.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," House offers in a dead panned tone as they enter the bathroom; Chase offering him a small snicker.

Chase heads for the sink while House walks toward the shower stall and turns on the water to warm up the somewhat spacious spare bathroom. He looks at his roughed up reflection in the mirror and a few seconds later bends over and throws up more watery bile.

"So much…for the pill," Chase groans as House offers a small frown.

"You can look at yourself later…" House's voice is heard as he tries to turn Chase away. "There is no point in trying to torture yourself further."

"I hear their words…feel their breath…and now…now I see what they did," Chase's voice cracks once more. "Kept telling myself…it's not that bad…not that bad…" Chase's chest heaves, forcing him to pause as House finally succeeds in turning him away from the mirror. "House…are you sure?"

"I'm sure," House replies. He knows that Chase would trust his medical diagnosis and isn't really calling him a liar but just needs to hear, again, that he wasn't sexually assaulted. It was close…he was groped and fondled and manhandled…but it wasn't all the way and in time that would help him make a full emotional recovery.

"You're still my whole duckling, now…before you fall to the floor and do more damage to that pretty face, time to get cleaned up."

House succeeds in unbuttoning Chase's ripped and soiled short sleeved shirt and tosses it into the garbage can. He watches Chase flinch when House's hands drop lower and he instantly backs off.

"I'll leave the door open a foot and be right outside. Just don't…fall," House instructs Chase in torment.

"I have no clean clothes," Chase comments with a frustrated huff as House nods toward a table with some folded garments on them.

"They might be a bit big but are clean and ready for use tonight. We'll get you some of your own tomorrow. Just…shower up now."

Chase watches House take his leave, keeping true to his word of leaving the door open and then standing outside with this back to the open door so as to honor his privacy but still be there in case he gets into trouble. His face offers a heavy wince as he steps under the warm streams and it starts to mix with the fresh scuffs and a few open cuts he hadn't let House treat.

"Robert?" House asks sharply as he hears the younger man gasp in pain and then curse.

"I'm…fine…" Chase calls back with a slight pant. "Fine…" he chants as his fists ball and he closes his eyes tightly as the warm streams down upon his head…washing out bits of dirt and fabric from the fight; sliding down his back, arms, chest…warming his aching frame and starting to make some of his shivers subside. But as soon as the water snakes lower, his lips utter another gasp of agony and House's turmoil strengthens.

"Robert…time's up!"

As much as he hates to interrupt and can only hope that the younger man has washed away most of the day's filth but fears if the stays in the heat any longer that he'll get light headed and fall and hurt himself further or worse pass out completely and have to be dragged back to bed – literally.

"Okay…" Chase mutters as he turns off the dials on the shower. "Okay…" he mutters once more, mostly to hear himself saying something firm that is actually listened to – even if it is by his own ears and then actions. The steam in the room continues to make play with the dizziness that is threatening to send him to his knees in an exhausted heap.

He turns too fast and small black circles quickly dance across his plane of sight – his brain cursing his rash actions. _You haven't slept or eaten in over twenty four hours and before then…you only had some minibar bottles and Tylenol._

Chase's slightly trembling hands reach for the waiting pajamas and he can't help but purse his lips slightly. "At least they're drawstring," he comments as House's ears pick up the rather off the cuff remark about his own attire.

"And washed."

"Was hoping that was a given," Chase retorts in a dry whisper as House pokes his head into the room. _Damn boy is too skinny…those pants are about to fall off…good thing there is a drawstring!_ But his mind pauses in its musings as he looks at the purplish bruises that are starting to take form on the young intensivist's pale skin. "Do I look pathetic?" Chase's somewhat timid voice is heard as he remains with his back to House's inspecting gaze.

"You look like you're in pain and trying to pretend you're not," House states firmly as he nears Chase; taking the cotton button up pajama top and helping Chase thread his arms through it. He notices the boney shoulders starting to shake; his mind racing for something comforting to say. _What the hell do I say…sorry a man groped your uh…private areas but in a few days the pain will be gone?_ "How's your stomach?"

"Sore," Chase answers in truth as he turns to look at House. For a few seconds Chase stands before House in the oversized pajama's looking at the older man with a boyish expression and House's inner core starts to dish up a healthy serving of fatherly concern.

House continues to look at Chase and for the first time in hours he feels another gaze starting to penetrate his fragile exterior. Despite the warm water washing away the sweat, dirt and dried blood, the haunting gaze that starts to stare back at House from the dark circles under the young Aussie's eyes gives him an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Alright as your doctor I advise you to get back to b…"

"Carlos…"

"What?"

"The man who helped me…his name was Carlos," Chase tells House as they leave the bathroom; stopping before they enter House's bedroom. "I don't know much else."

"I'll tell Simons," House assures Chase as he ushers him into the bedroom; Chase not protesting that House is letting him sleep in his bedroom.

"I only remember because…"

 _'He's had enough!'_

 _'Back off Carlos…what the hell is he to you anyways?'_

 _'Yeah…back the hell off…I haven't had fresh meat in a few weeks and this boy is as fresh as they come!'_

 _'You want more…you come through me!'_

"He…he risked his life. I don't know why…he never said…I never had a chance…to ask," Chase stammers as his knees start to feel weak once again. He stumbles just as he reaches the edge of the bed; cursing himself and telling House he doesn't need any more help. House knows that after such a horrific ordeal that Chase would want to retain whatever dignity he has left and that would want to feel as much control as possible. However, when Chase's leg misses the bed, House once again takes him by the elbow and physically helps him get in and then settle down onto his side.

Chase bites back a painful gasp and then slumps down with a frustrated huff. "Did they find Ntiba?"

"I'll check in with Simons," House promises as he pulls the blanket up to Chase's shoulders. "I know it won't be easy but it's late and I hope you get at least an hour sleep or…rest and I'll make you something to eat when you get up."

Chase mumbles something almost incoherent; his weary eyes feeling like they are lead lined have no choice but to close, his mind praying for something that resembles at least an hour of rest.

None would be forthcoming.

XXXXXXXX

Despite the late hour, when House hears a soft knock he knows that it's Wilson and hurries to open it.

"How is he?"

"Trying to sleep. He had taken a Gravol but poor boy threw up when he saw his reflection in the mirror," House replies in a tormented whisper. "What'd you bring?"

"A few clean things of his own. House…"

"He's shaken and….that damn bastard Ntiba had him kidnapped and falsely arrested. He paid off some local crooked cop and then threw Robert into a holding tank with a bunch of monsters. When I think about him out numbered like that…calling for help and being hurt…" House's voice trails off as he takes the bag from Wilson's grasp and then turns and looks at the room Robert is sleeping in.

Just before House turns back to tell Wilson one more thing, his phone buzzes and he's quick to answer pull it and read the text.

 _'Haven't found your African yet. Not giving up. Hope you're boy is okay. See you tomorrow. Richard.'_

"What?" Wilson asks softly.

"Simons…Ntiba is still missing," House groans as he rubs his face and then pulls away from his bedroom that Chase is now sleeping in; or trying to. "He told me some of the details of what happened."

"Oh damn," Wilson whispers as House nods in agreement. They pause as they enter the kitchen and Wilson notices House's jaw tighten and slightly purses his lips. "Hey…this isn't your fault," Wilson reminds him softly.

"On the way there," House starts in a low tone; his weary gaze fixed at the window and staring absently into the darkness outside. "I thought he had just run away…didn't want to deal with Dibala's demise. I thought he was just…drunk and did something stupid and as I walked up to the room he was being treated in I told myself to just open the door and tell him to get his ass in the car and that was it. Then then door opened…and I saw him," House pauses as his voice cracks and he turns to Wilson with tightly drawn lips. "Thanks for the clothes," House quickly recovers. "I'll see you…"

"House…"

"There's no point in getting bogged down in emotion," House tosses back a firm chirp. "Robert will be fine in a few days and then he'll get some counselling and…he'll bounce back."

Wilson stares at House and knows it's late…he's tired, agitated, stressed and beating himself up for something he thinks he could have stopped. The trust is no one could have foreseen Ntiba's secretive and vile actions – a personal vendetta that started thousands of miles from PPTH. Arguing with House about his current emotional state and the fact that he himself is battling internal fatherly/protective feelings toward the younger man right now would be a futile task.

"I'll be by in the morning."

House remains fixed in place as Wilson slowly walks to the front door and then closes it; his ears picking up the sound of it being locked and then silence starting to envelop him.

 _'You're agitated because you care…'_ Wilson's words are finally heard as House slightly jerks in place; his brain brushing away Wilson's words and instantly focusing on Chase's crying out in agony.

House's frame appears in the doorway just as Chase's frame bolts upright, yelling out 'STOP' and then another man's name.

"That uh…that was the man who…who…." Chase gasps as House slowly nears him and then eases himself down on the bed. "He…was the one that…touched me…most."

 _I'm sorry…it wasn't that bad…you'll be fine soon…_ House's brain races to come up with something that is comforting…reassuring…caring. "The bastard that did this will pay."

Chase looks at House with an anguished gaze and nods before he looks back down; not saying a word.

"I'm not good at this."

"What?"

"This…Wilson always said my bedside manner sucked," House states frankly.

"We all…said that," Chase adds in a sad whisper as his eyes water; his brain trying to erase the ugly images of his attackers smiling faces. "I wish I could forget."

"Sorry," House acknowledges as he looks at Chase with a heavy frown. "I uh…I know I should add…you'll be fine in a few days but I always thought sounded like a load of BS when it's offered to someone who had just suffered…trauma. Or a family member," House pauses and exhales heavily. "I will say those that did this won't get away with it and I give you my word you won't have to go through this alone."

Chase sits beside House in silence, his brain telling him that it sounds good and that he wants to believe it but as he squeezes his eyes shut and feels thick male hands on his thigh…moving up while he struggles in vain to escape; his body on fire and his lips unable to call for help.

"It's late," Chase whispers as he blinks away a few angry tears and then briskly wipes his nose.

"Yeah…it is," House nods as he twists himself around and helps Chase back into bed and pulls the blanket up to his shoulder and then slowly stands up. "Try to get some more rest…if you can and the next time you wake up…I'll make you something to eat."

"I can buy…dinner."

"Tomorrow," House retorts as he turns off the small bedside light. He takes a few items from his closet and then heads into his private bathroom to change, exiting back into his bedroom and hearing Chase's soft snores coming from the large bed. Once again all he sees is a small vulnerable boy, curled up in his bed, silently begging for some justice.

Wanting to give Chase the opportunity to get some real rest, House quietly leaves the room and slowly limps down the hallway to the spare bedroom and enters with a weary sigh. He eases himself down onto the smaller bed and then looks around.

He slumps down onto the bed, his brain trying to put out the thought that it's after midnight and time for him to get some rest as well. However, that is rendered moot when about twenty minutes into his restless sleep, he once again hears Chase crying out – cursing another name and is quick to awaken his bleary eyes.

 _Why is he alone? He just endured hell…he needs…just someone nearby._

"Ah hell," House grumbles as he pushes himself back out of bed and then slowly limps back down the hallway until he's back to the entrance of his own bedroom.

"Can't get…them out of my head," Chase admits as he slumps back down.

 _First twenty-four hours for assault victims are always the worst…just assure him you'll be here and he can rest… in peace?_

"I'm going to…sleep here," House huffs as he eases himself into bed and then watches as Chase settles back down but leaves his eyes open. _He hears their words…their dirty, filthy words…he needs to hear other words…_ since he knows he can't stay up all night and talk to Chase he does the next best thing.

Chase watches as House gets up once more; his mind berating him for keeping the older man up for longer than wanted, reminding him that this is his burden to bear. But as soon as the TV is turned on, his mind instantly switches from the ugly taunts from his attackers to the sports report on the small screen.

"Focus on another voice," House instructs as he limps back to his side of the bed and flops back down.

Chase remains on his side staring at the TV with a sleepy gaze. He tries to tell himself that this will help him but when he hears a voice that sounds exactly like the man that took much pleasure in tormenting him, his agitation rises. Without wanting to burden House further, he slowly pushes himself out of bed, heads for the remote and then turns to the children's channel, watching as some mindless cartoon comes on the air.

"That works too," House mumbles as he settles back into his light slumber.

Chase crawls back into bed and then tries to get comfortable. His mind takes some small amount of satisfaction in the fact that he's not able to smell any trace of prison on him, however, his entire frame can still feel the aftereffects of his horrifying ordeal.

 _Concentrate on the fake voices…_ he commands himself as he closes his eyes and focuses on Mickey Mouse's soft voice in the distance. For the most part it works…at least it drowns out the ugly voices that had dominated his subconscious for the past several hours; however, as soon as he closes his eyes he can still _feel_ their hands touching him…groping…probing…taunting.

The night would be restless…for both.

XXXXXXXX

The next morning House awakens at what he thinks is an early hour, only to look over and see the side Chase had been sleeping on – empty. The bed is still rumpled and when he feels it – cool to the touch. The TV is off and the rest of the apartment is silent.

He slowly pushes himself up out of bed and limps into the hallway and then toward the kitchen; pausing to see Chase sitting in the large chair facing the window, just staring outside with a glazed over expression. Feeling a twinge of cool in the air, House takes the crocheted blanket from the couch and slowly approaches.

"The heat's just coming on," he mentions, not wanting to startle the younger man as he drapes the blanket around his shoulders and back. "Hungry?"

Chase says nothing but merely nods and then tries to swallow. "The police officer is coming today?"

"He is," House replies in truth as he pauses mid-turn. "And you'll give him your statement and then he'll take care of the ones involved in this fiasco."

"And…Ntiba? Has he been caught yet?"

House hears the torment in Chase's tone and exhales heavily. But just before he can reply, his phone buzzes from atop the kitchen counter and he's quick to retrieve it. "Good timing Simons," House huffs as he opens the message from the veteran officer.

Just as he does Chase turns to face him; his expression one of expectation, silently begging for some relief.

"Has…he been caught?" Chase dares to ask once more.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know I'm a bit behind on this everyone and waffled on posting today as RL has been almost unbearable so I hope it's even a bit okay and you're still with me on this little adventure. Think Ntiba has been found? What happened to the crooked officer and will Simons help Carlos who helped Chase? Will Chase ever get to thank him? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	9. Confession Hurts us All

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 9 – Confession Hurts us All**

* * *

While he knows that it would give the younger man a sense of emotional relief, lying would only do more harm than good and give Chase a false sense of physical security.

 _'I think he's hopped a plane and flown back to Africa. I'll make sure he's flagged if he ever tries to come back. Sorry'_

"House…I know that look and…it's bad news right?" Chase asks with a hint of hope in his tone.

"Once again I'd like to lie to spare your feelings but…."

"My feelings don't matter," Chase interjects with a slight huff.

"Most likely he's hopped a plane back to Africa. He's…a coward," House answers; his voice ending with a small hiss. "Simons will continue looking but he's also coming here for your statement so I'm going to send you to the spare bedroom to change into some of your clothes while I make us some breakfast and then I want you to relax…if you can."

Chase slowly pushes himself upright, the blanket still draped around his slim shoulders and heads toward the spare bedroom; pausing to look back at House with a tormented frown. "Can he confirm that Ntiba is in Africa?"

"He's not going to stop until he knows for sure where he is and I'll make sure of that."

Chase nods, his lips tightly drawn into a thin line and then turns and disappears from view into the spare bedroom, House's body sagging against the counter as his jaw tightens.

 _'Can you make sure he actually arrived in Africa?'_ House texts Simons; not really expecting much. And he gets a reply to that effect.

 _'Not sure I have that kinda pull for a case that hasn't been officially opened. I'm going to find Cogwell and get his statement and then if does finger Ntiba I'll have at least a bit more of a case behind me. Stay tuned.'_

"Right," House mutters as he slowly limps back into his bedroom, closing the door halfway so he can dress in privacy before reentering the quiet hallway on his way to make breakfast. He looks at Chase's ducky on the bed and slowly heads for it, picking it up and looking at the silly little piece of plastic in his palm.

 _'Figured it was special…he protected that like it was worth its weight in gold.'_

Simons words echo in his mind as his palm closes around it, his ears hearing Chase's frantic cries for help before he's silenced and this time it's his stomach that tightens and then lurches. His heart rate jumps a few extra beats as he hears Chase's soft gasp in the distance and takes his leave from his room; Chase looking up as House enters the spare bedroom and offers a strained smile.

Before Chase can say anything else, House's hand opens and he holds out the small rubber ducky that Chase gingerly accepts. "For the record…your feelings will _always_ matter."

House's fingers close around Chase's on the duck and he gives him a firm nod before he turns and takes his leave; muttering under his breath that he's going to start breakfast and could join him when he's ready. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a sweater, Chase folds up the pajamas House had lent him, places the ducky beside them and heads for the kitchen.

Feeling light headed is normal, he tells himself after the hellish ordeal he's survived; but as he looks at the on the fridge that House had written about Officer Simons his agitation skyrockets once more.

 _'You tell anyone and you're…dead!'_

 _'I know what happened and if you come near him again, you're dead!'_

"This will help settle your stomach a little," House hands Chase a cup of warm tea. "When you talk to Simons this morning…just tell him…do you want me to be in the room?" House stops suddenly mid-sentence and then redirects.

Chase swallows his mouthful of tea and then looks up in wonder. "I…" he starts and then stops. _If he hears all the details…what'll he think? Will he think less than he does now?_

"Whatever you tell Simons…well just know it won't make my highlight reel to talk to anyone about. No teasing no…I give you my word. Hate seeing you like this."

"I was set-up," Chase states suddenly; his words making House pause in his plate assembly and then turn back in wonder. "I did pull the blood work for Scleroderma and then…I was so agitated but I know I left it alone. It wasn't for very long and…"

"We know."

"What? What do you mean you know?" Chase asks sharply.

"Foreman took a quick look at the camera that faces the entrance to the morgue and it shows you setting the file down for a few minutes. In that time we see…someone…"

"Ntiba?"

"You can't see a face and we can't just go around arresting all African's who were part of the detail with Dibala, but it was one of them."

"There are some left?"

"Foreman was able to get hospital security to apprehend the two who were slower to leave…or were left behind as patsy's," House pauses as he places a plate before Chase. "They're still working on it. I'll update Simons on everything when he comes.

Chase nods as he looks back down at his plate of food. "It's…good."

"Take your time but eat it all up. You're dehydrated and you haven't eat for…damn two days now," House lightly snips in an undertone as Chase looks up in remorse. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

The talk during the remainder of their breakfast is strained at best; House not wanting to ask too many questions but at the same time wanting to prepare Chase for what he knows is to come, and Chase not wanting to talk too much about his hellish ordeal but finding he feels better when he does.

They reach an impasse and the rest of their breakfast is spent in somewhat uncomfortable silence.

XXXXXXXX

After breakfast, Chase thanks House for the meal and slowly gets up and heads into the living room, flipping on the TV to help fill the silent void with mindless chatter and telling himself to just breathe slowly and deeply in the hopes of keeping his food in his stomach.

But as he looks at the clock, he can't help but feel an inner sense of doom starting to gather momentum like a brewing storm and he quickly looks around for something to read in an attempt to keep himself from throwing up. His fingers flip to a movie and within a few seconds his mind is relieved, for the distraction that seems to be working. However, when House finishes up in the kitchen and then reenters the living room and stops to see Chase in the same position he had found him an hour earlier.

Sitting in the large chair, head slightly slumped to the right but this time his eyes are closed and his frame covered with the blanket House had given him earlier. Thankful that the younger man is trying to get some rest, he slowly leaves the area and heads back into the kitchen; looking at the time and knowing the hour for Chase's emotional agitation to once again soar is drawing ever nearer.

But Chase's time to rest isn't as long as expected or wanted whereas in half hour a low but determined knock is heard at the door and House hurries to open as Chase instantly snaps awake.

"I know you've both probably had a restless night but…well best to get it over with right?"

"Course…come in," House entreats veteran officer Richard Simons with a firm handshake. But just as he goes to close the door, another figure steps up; the younger man that had saved Chase's life – Kyle Ferguson. "And…come in."

Kyle offers House a small nod before he takes a few sheepish steps into the foreign apartment, looking up and spying Robert Chase at the end of the hallway, staring back at the two visitors with apprehension. A few seconds later, just before House can close the door, another man enters – much to the shock of all.

"Kyle is here as legal counsel for Robert if he wants…uh Dr. Chase and this is Vince Marchetti, my partner. Just want to keep things by the book."

"Course," House huffs as he looks at Chase and offers a remorse filled gaze; a silent apology that Chase can only nod in agreement.

"I wish this visit was under more pleasant circumstances but…" Simons exhales heavily as he follows after House into the living room; him and Kyle taking the sofa opposite Chase in the large chair and House in the loveseat. "But in order for me to have any kind of…well investigation we need to get Robert's statement. My partner, he'll use discretion."

Marchetti nods as he shakes House's hand and then offers a brief nod to Chase before he goes and stands behind Simons, leaning against the wall.

"So Robert…" Simons starts in a clipped tone. "I know this won't be easy but we need your accounting of things starting with the moment when you were arrested."

When Simons was talking the feeling of impending doom wasn't as great as when the room suddenly goes silent and all eyes zoom in on him. A lump forms in his throat and for a few seconds he wants to tell them all _forget it! This is a waste of time…go find the bastard and arrest him!_ But he knows he has to be strong. The only way Simons was going to apprehend Ntiba was for him to tell them what happened – that is if they ever found the wily Ntiba. Chase looks at House, who even though remains silent, gives him a small nod and a determined smile; silently telling him that he doesn't have to go through this alone and although painful in the present moment would help in the long run.

"I was…it was after shift at the hospital and I…I was getting ready to go home when I heard footsteps. I thought it was Foreman who had been there…."

"Foreman?" Simons interjects; having already discussed with his partner on the drive over that he would be the point in asking the questions and on the investigation.

"Robert's current superior. He's not involved," House states firmly; much to the silent annoyance of both Simons and Marchetti.

"Thank you Dr. House but we can't rule out…."

"He's the one that called you about Ntiba's men at _my_ direction. Eric Foreman might be a bit of an overachiever political ass kisser at times, but he is loyal to his work and…his team and if he was shady in any way I'd turn him in myself," House interjects in an authoritative tone.

"Foreman would never turn me in like that," Chase repeats once more. "I told him that I could have lef…right just the arrest okay so…"

"Left what?" Marchetti pipes up.

"Test results. I had test results and I put them down…only for a few minutes but I think Ntiba took them and uh…" he pauses as he looks at House who nods. "And used the opportunity to overthrow President Dibala by killing him and…"

"Framing Robert," House adds.

"Quite the theory," Marchetti comments as House looks at him suspect.

"Okay we'll check with hospital security on that. Then what?" Simons prods.

As much as House tells himself he doesn't want to actually hear the sordid details from his youngest duckling he knows he can't turn away; each time Chase looks up for some silent support, his heart tugs and his mind races. He feels as if he'd be betraying him by leaving so he settles back into the chair and tells himself Chase only has to relive this once and that would be it.

He'd be wrong.

"So it wasn't Foreman but Ntiba with two others and he…said I was arrested and I was taken out to a police car and a uh…there was an officer waiting. Did you talk to him? Did he tell you about the arrest?" Chase asks weakly. But a few seconds later Simons and Marchetti trade grave glances and House is quick to pounce on it.

"He's dead right?" House asks as Chase's eyes slightly widen in horror as he looks from House to Officer Simons.

"We found the body of Officer Dylan Cogwell in his backyard. House was ransacked…had a vintage mustang in the garage…gone. Robbery or at least made to look like that. The crime scene is being worked on right now. Sorry," Simons replies earnestly as he looks from House to Chase. "However we do have him on a the few security cameras that he didn't turn off…it shows him bringing Doctor Chase into lockup, therefore cementing him as an accessory."

"I called for help. You…I called to you for help!" Chase looks at Kyle directly; the younger blond man about his age looks back in misery. "Sorry," Chase adds in haste as Kyle shakes his head.

"No…you have every right to be mad. I…I saw you being brought in…I heard the call and I just...the only ones they bring in the area they brought you in are the uh…the real bad ones and I've heard others call out also. I should have checked sooner."

Chase's eyes water as he recalls calling out for help…calling out in utter desperation but hearing only mocking laughter coming from his evil captors and silence from the man in the distance.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kyle asks Chase in a soft tone; none of the other adults daring to speak.

Chase pauses for a few seconds before he shakes his head no. "It's not…your fault."

"Doctor Chase we don't have to go into all the details," Simons pipes up as Chase looks back at the veteran officer. "Were there any other officers that worked with Cogwell?"

"I saw officers in the distance when I was uh…brought in to be booked but…Cogwell took care of it with the help of the African's. So…that's it then? They killed Cogwell and get away without…okay," Chase's voice dies out as he tries to swallow.

"We haven't closed the case yet. When you were…inside the holding cell…" Simons starts with a heavy huff as Chase's heart starts to race once more; his brain begging his stomach to keep his food down.

"House told you?" Chase asks somewhat bitterly as House feels guilt instantly slam into him full force.

"Only to help build a case against the men who put you there in the first place."

"Yes. Someone helped me. I heard the name Carlos," Chase admits in a weak but firm tone.

"Carlos Mendoza," Marchetti confirms as Simons nods.

"He stopped the men from uh…what happened to him?"

"We had him transferred out to a separate holding cell after we found the tapes that…well corroborated what House said and now what you confirmed. We spoke with Carlos but the video evidence and your word…made it credible."

"What'll happen to him?" Chase directs his question to Kyle.

"I…I'm not his lawyer," Kyle replies in a somber tone as Chase's brow furrows once more and he tries to put on a brave face for the strangers in the room. "But it can only help him."

"And the uh…men that…attacked me…what happens to them?" Chase asks so fast his words are almost indiscernible.

"Hopefully we can get some more camera footage as evidence that'll corroborate your statement or…"

"Or what?" House asks in haste.

"You might have to testify against them. It'll be a small board hearing but…but let's worry about the one who started this all in the first place. Carlos has agreed but his word against the other inmates doesn't hold too much water at times."

"Right," House whispers as Chase remains silent.

"Okay. I think we got all we need," Simons tells House and Chase as Marchetti nods in agreement.

"What about the men you have in custody?"

"Claims they knew nothing. Both say it was Doctor Chase who killed President...Dibala," Simons pauses as he reads his notes and then looks back up, "and Ntiba is back in Africa and that's where he should be."

"We need to _confirm_ that Ntiba is in Africa," House reminds them as he looks at Simons in no uncertain terms.

"We will. Okay I think that…"

But Chase doesn't wait for Simons to finish, instead he gives them a nod and then stands up and hurries out of the room; House quickly standing up to follow and then turning back to Simons with a tormented expression.

"Your boy is hurting…I know this was hard on him but it was necessary to get his full statement. We got all the facts so uh…"

Chase walks into the spare bedroom and leans against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the pounding in his body to subside long enough for him to say a cordial farewell to his guests and not letting them see him throw up.

"Robert?"

The voice although familiar isn't House's and Chase turns around to see Simons looking at him in concern.

"Oh uh…yes sorry," Chase stammers as he quickly swallows and then puts on a tight lipped smile.

"Your dad…he's only trying to get the bastard put away who hurt you."

"I know," Chase responds with curt nod as Simons lips draw tightly.

"And Kyle…he…he feels guilty. He came here to help…no one wanted to hurt you more."

"I don't blame him. I get it. I just…so this…is over now?" Chase asks hopefully as Simons resigns with a nod as he steps back into the hallway.

"For now. Just rest up and we'll be in touch with any updates."

"Okay."

"Take care now," Simons adds just as he takes his leave.

Chase takes a few more deep breaths before he pokes his head back into the hallway just as Kyle and Marchetti reach the front door with House; Simons already in the hallway. Chase offers a small thank you and then gives them all a tight lipped smile before House slowly closes the door and then looks at Chase in concern.

"Robert. I kno…" is all House manages before Chase turns and hurries for the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and throwing up his breakfast that both of them were hoping to keep down.

"I tried…to keep…it down…" Chase gasps as his stomach constricts once more, bending back down and throwing up some watery bile before flushing once more and then turning to the sink where House already has cool water running.

House's hand reaches out and at first hangs in the air before slowly lowering and resting upon Chase's slightly trembling back; once again instantly noticing that the younger man's once violent agitations suddenly cease. House pulls back as Chase straightens up and then hands him a small towel to dry his face.

"I only told him about Carlos because I thought it was important."

"I'm glad you did," Chase states softly as he offers House a strained smile which ends up looking more like a grimace. "So…what happens now?"

"Now…you are going to go and rest, doctor's orders so that you can keep the next meal down and then…"

"Spend the rest of my time looking over my shoulder until Ntiba is caught!" Chase hisses in a sour note as he tries to push past House.

However, House's hand gently rests on his shoulder and stops him; Chase looking up with a semi-defeated glance.

"I don't want that either but until we confirm that Ntiba is in Africa then…we have to be cautious."

"And the other part…me having to testify?" Chase dares to inquire.

"Let's worry about one part first. I know…easier said than done."

"Which part first?" Chase tosses back in sarcasm as House's lips twinge into a small smirk.

"The first part of keeping the next meal down. Go rest young man…you need it."

Offering House a deft nod, Chase silently pushes past and heads back toward House's bedroom and slumps down on his bed, on the side that he had been sleeping on earlier; his arms pulling the covers over him and his eyes instantly shutting.

At the same time House wanders over to the large living room window and looks out into the grey afternoon skies and feels his mind start to race.

 _I know you're out there you bastard…but where!_ House's mind inwardly growls. _You come for Robert…and you'll be sorry!_

XXXXXXXX

Those words…would be tested.

* * *

 **A/N:** Lots of angsty tension abounding for both would be father and son in this but it had to be told. Will Chase just be able to work past it now? Return to work and just pick up where he left off? Where is Ntiba really? Will Chase really have to testify in the future? Would love your thoughts on this angsty update so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	10. A Looming Threat

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 10 – A Looming Threat**

 **A/N:** A special thanks as always to **Rei, shooting2stars & guest **for your continued support and awesome reviews! So much appreciated (I can't thank you personally b/c you guys don't have accounts but I value your reviews so much) And to everyone else still with me and my muse Alice on this little adventure thanks so much also! Hope you like this angsty little update.

* * *

The mounting silence starts to bother House somewhat but mostly because he knows the younger man across the table from him is holding it all inside, not wanting to purge his feelings.

"How is it?" House asks for a second time.

"Good," Chase answers for a second time; one word, same tone – agitated. House can't blame him or fault him as he knows that the discussion with Simons had forced Chase to relive that horribly traumatic experience all over again. "I know you want me to talk," Chase states somewhat sourly.

"No…good is fine. I'm good. Food's good…apparently you're good."

"It is good," Chase replies with a frustrated huff.

"I want you to talk because…I know holding all that anxious tension inside can't be good for you and it bothers me because I can't…fix it and you know I like to fix things," House states plainly.

Chase looks back down at his plate and then up at House with a heavy frown. "I know what you all think."

"You do," House states more than questions.

"Yes. When I said what happened. All of you sitting there…thinking…silently judging…whatever…" Chase's voice dies out in a sour note. "I was weak…I saw the looks…of pity. Hate pity!"

"We sat there thinking it was a damn travesty that never should have happened," House interjects in haste. "I doubt there was a man in that room…when faced with well the same situation would have thought less of you because they'd all be hoping no one would think less of them if they were in that situation. But…it wasn't pity."

Chase offers a tight lipped nod to which House's lips merely purse. "Even sitting here now…I still feel their hands…I feel myself trying to get away…their grips tightened and…Carlos helped me," he exhales with a small wince as he looks back down. "I…" he softly gasps as a sharp pain in his stomach surfaces.

House instantly notices the two winces in quick succession and rests his hand atop Chase's forearm for a few seconds before the younger man's tormented gaze finally lifts. "Take a few minutes before you eat again otherwise you'll have more stomach pains."

"I was weak. I know it might not have been said…but I know everyone was thinking that," Chase states as he tries to swallow at the same time.

"It will take time but you will come to believe that it wasn't your fault. Simons is a big man but even then…if he was restrained and facing what you did…no man will ever fault you for something you had no control over."

"I SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Chase shouts as he pushes himself back from the table. As much as House doesn't want to hear him straining his lungs or working himself up further he knows it has to come out; bottling all this negative emotion inside would be detrimental.

"Done what?" House gently probes.

"Gone for the test…results and left them and…I shouldn't have…maybe I deserved this," Chase's tone drops to a soft lament.

"Robert…"

"Maybe I did kill him. Maybe it was me. I felt hatred toward him. I wanted him dead. I wanted to help those people…I wanted him to stop touching me!"

With that Chase pushes himself up from his chair and storms out of the kitchen, House's heart instantly sinking as he slumps back in his kitchen chair, his fingers pushing his plate of food away from him as his lips slightly draw. _Way to go!_ He hears Wilson's voice inside his head scolding him for pushing Chase too much.

But just as House stands up to go and see how Chase is faring, a face appears and his brow furrows. "I just wanted you to get it out…whatever you were bottling up inside."

Chase says nothing, merely stands in silence looking at House with an expression that's a mixture of remorse and regret. House takes a few steps toward Chase who merely nods and then allows House to lead him back to the table and sit down to finish his meal.

"From now on…during meal times we won't talk about…well anything outside kittens and puppies unless you want to."

"Duckies?" Chase retorts softly; his expression untensing much to House's relief and delight.

"Duckies are a given," House agrees as Chase looks up with a tightly drawn smile. "I was only trying to help."

"I know. But part of me still feels…I put them down…the results, it was only a few seconds and then…I keep asking myself what if I didn't have them…what if…"

"And that'll drive you crazier than it does now," House interjects in haste. "But even if you hadn't…I think Ntiba would have found a way to take out Dibala and frame you…or Foreman or anyone around him making decisions. Heck they show on those phony TV crime shows someone injecting a large air bubble into a vein and the person dies of a heart attack any moron can copy that and claim it was a natural death," House's voice trails off in sarcasm; as Chase offers a soft chuckle.

But the few fleeting moments of mirth are quickly replaced when House's voice turns stern and mentions Chase's first name.

"Robert…" House ensures he has Chase's full attention before continuing. "You were never to blame for any of this no matter what feelings you had inside. Now enough pearls of wisdom from me. Finish your supper or I'll have to ground myself for upsetting you – again."

This time Chase is able to finish the rest of his meal and then head into the living room to just relax. But as he stares aimlessly at the TV he tells himself that he can't stay at House's forever and he shouldn't be taking advantage of his friend?...soon to be boss again? Either way he didn't want to keep taking advantage of House's hospitality when there was nothing physically wrong with him. _Aside from some nasty bruises and cuts!_

Chase looks down at the cut on his arm and frowns, his fingers gingerly feeling the area around the wound and forcing a rather perplexed expression to form. "Still warm…" he mentions, not looking up but hearing House's frame shuffling toward the living room.

House heads for the bathroom and then returns with the first aid kit, settling in by the younger man and then placing a pillow on his lap to tend to his arm wound.

"I should go…home. I mean tomorrow," Chase blurts out as he looks up with a small huff. "I appreciate everything but I…I feel like I'm…that's how I heal right?"

"On your own?"

"I just don't…" Chase stops and then looks back down at his wounded arm.

"When I got there…to the jail…I…I thought it wasn't as serious as Simons was trying to tell me. Thought you had gone on some damn bender and was going to be sitting there with a goofy grin…"

"So…it's guilt?" Chase blurts out as House's brow furrows.

"Would it be so hard to believe that I want to help?"

"A little," Chase answers softly as he watches House apply some cooling disinfectant and his face winces.

"Sorry," House apologizes as he gently rewraps the wound with fresh non-stick gauze. "Maybe a bit of guilt but at the same time I don't think it's wise to be thinking about healing on your own just yet. There I said it. The rest is up to you," House nods firmly as he leaves the living room and heads for the bathroom; his phone buzzing on his hip as he walks.

 _'One of the Africans in custody managed to 'tip' hospital security really well and escaped. The guard we have in custody now but he said the African didn't tell him where he was going except to say home. The other African we have in a proper holding cell in the precinct. More later. Oh and we checked out your man Foreman. He's clear. Simons'_

"Smart ass," House mutters as he looks up to see Chase enter the hallway.

"Did they find him?"

"You'll be the second to find out. And no, they have one of the Africans in a police holding cell for questioning."

"One…and the other?"

"I was getting to that," House gently huffs. "One of them…well he offered a very substantial bribe to one of our hapless security guards who then let him go. He has no knowledge of his plan and I doubt the diplomat would tell him. But Simons has his picture and has alerted all airport authorities so hopefully they'll have him soon."

"Until then…I keep _looking_ over my back," Chase states sourly.

"Well if you turn around now at least you'll see one friendly face _watching_ your back," House quickly reminds him as Chase's expression softens. "You're not in this alone. Ntiba…"

"He's capable of anything," Chase adds in a quiet whisper as his lips purse. "Supper was good. Thank you."

"Course," House replies with a kind smile. "I hope it stays down. So…I want you just to go and rest up and I know I am starting to sound like a broken record but you do need to build up some strength. It's going on day three and…"

"Three?" Chase retorts weakly as House nods.

"First time in three days that you've had or kept a solid meal in your belly and I want to keep it that way. We can watch a movie later or something but right now…"

"I can rest in the living room. I just…I hear their voices…whispering things as they um…what they'll do and I…I believed them!" Chase gently growls. "I still hear their voices. I want…other voices in my head. Erasing their ugly words…their ugly threats…promises. Some…came true, others thank God didn't happen. But I can still hear their taunts."

"Understandable. Living room it is. Watch whatever you want and I'll join you shortly."

As soon as Chase turns and heads back into the living room a knock is heard at the door and his agitation once again jumps.

"Probably Wilson," House comments as he makes his way toward his front door. Just to be sure he peers through the peephole to see his best friend standing a few feet away and opens it in haste.

"Bad time?" Wilson asks upon entering and seeing a weary looking Chase standing a few meters past House.

"No. Robert and I are going to watch some TV. You can join us if you want. I'm sure there's some trashy tabloid show on there we can watch and mock."

"Another Kardashian hour?" Wilson groans.

"Who else defines trashy TV?" House tosses back in sarcasm as Wilson shrugs in defeat.

"I brought him a few more things," Wilson mentions after Chase had disappeared into the living room once more. "So…how did the call go today?"

"Hell. How are things with Foreman?"

"Tense," Wilson answers in truth. "He's angry that one of the African diplomats was able to just so easily walk free but I guess money does talk and the transfer was quite substantial," he pauses with a heavy sigh. "The other was taken away into police custody."

"But you can be sure that Ntiba didn't tell anyone his plans," House grimaces as he hears Chase offer a soft chuckle coming from the living room. "What he said happened…makes me sick and angry at the same time."

"At least he has someone to look after him and he doesn't have to do this alone."

"Although he now wants to go home and be alone," House huffs as they remain in place, talking in hushed tones.

"Not…a good idea."

"That's what I said too especially since none of us can confirm exactly where Ntiba is at this moment."

"But…wait…so he's not in Africa?" Wilson ponders as House shrugs. "That kinda changes things. If this guy did murder Dibala and Chase is the one person who can finger him…"

"Then yes Chase will be high on his hit list," House replies sharply. "That bastard…throwing Robert into that cell with those…animals! Well if this other escapee does find Ntiba then he'll be the next victim."

"Maybe following the trail of bodies will lead us somewhere?" Wilson suggests as House looks at him in wonder. "But I hope it doesn't come to that."

House says nothing further as the thought of Chase falling into the hands of Ntiba would spell certain doom for the young Aussie and most certainly his death. He tells Wilson to just drop the bag of fresh clothes onto the spare bed and then the two of them head into the living room to join Chase in watching something – mindless.

XXXXXXXX

A few hours pass and Chase's eyes threaten to close for good, his mind however, delighting in the friendly banter between himself, House and Wilson that for two hours his mind didn't think on negative things…didn't conjure up images himself so helplessly sitting on the lap of one of the convicts before he was forcibly touched and didn't offer up whispered threats and words from hungry depraved men.

House looks over and notices Chase's head gently loll down before snapping back up and knows the younger man is forcing himself to stay awake so as to avoid the silence of sleep.

"I've set up the small TV in the spare bedroom," House mentions as Chase looks over with a sleepy stare. "Turn to whatever channel you want to fall asleep to…other voices to hear."

"Goodnight," Chase simply mentions with an appreciative smile as he stands up and slowly heads for the spare bedroom where House had transferred his personal items to the lone bed, the bag of fresh items waiting that Wilson had brought and of course his own little duckie waiting on the bedside table.

"He's so raw right now. I want him to open up but each time he does…I'm afraid to hear what he says," House admits after Chase had closed the door for added privacy to change and then get into bed. "I just want to go down to that jail and pound those bastards with my cane. I want to help more…but I don't know how."

"Have you…suggested therapy? Someone to talk to? Maybe Connor Larson?"

House ponders Wilson's suggestion as he looks at the empty Chase had been occupying and then back at Wilson with a glum expression.

"As much as he might resent you at first for making him go and talk to someone it can only help him in the long run."

"But he wasn't fully assaulted…" House tries to protest, remembering how painful it was for him to see Chase in such mental anguish over giving Simons and his partner a few key details. This? How would he survive… _wait him or you? Are you afraid that he might resent you? or no longer need you or…he needs to talk to someone…someone neutral and confidential…let out all the inner demons will keep him locked in mental darkness…_

"House?"

"I know…that's me being selfish," House confesses with a heavy sigh. "But with his best interests at heart which…is hypocritical because he should seek…yes maybe I'll suggest Connor Larson or just take him there. If I take him there he'll hate me at first but at least I can ensure that he actually goes."

Wilson hears the distress in House's voice and knows that even after all of this is over his friend's emotional state will never return to normal.

"What else did Foreman find out?"

Instead of answering Wilson pulls his phone and shows House the picture Foreman had texted to him.

"What's that?"

"None of us knew until we Googled it."

"You and Foreman…Goggled something?" House asks incredulously as Wilson offers a small smirk and nods. "Ok-ay."

"It's part of a crest that belongs to…" Wilson pauses as he flips to the second picture.

"The Dibala…family," House replies slowly and then looks up at Wilson with a heavy frown. "But…how does that implicate Ntiba in all this?"

"It's amazing what you can find online," Wilson continues as he pulls up an article that he had downloaded and hands it to House to read.

"Dibala and his half…brother…Ntiba taken outside the cathedral where…" House's turn to pause and look up at Wilson in mild shock. "Half-brother?"

"Always a friend…or relative in this case that hates you most."

"I'm sure he was planning his brother's assassination long ago and this…Robert was the perfect patsy. Damn bastard," House growls as he looks at Wilson with a stern expression. "And I doubt he just hopped a plane back to Africa. I think he's still here…somewhere."

"Think he'll come after Chase?"

House remains silent for a few tormented seconds, his eyes briefly closing before he looks at Wilson and nods. "He'll want to take care of _all_ the loose ends….by _any_ means possible."

XXXXXXXX

 _"I'll only need this for a few days."_

 _"Sure man…whatever. By the way…your accent…which part of Africa are you from?"_

* * *

 **A/N:** So Chase is opening up a little bit more but will he willingly go to see a therapist? Will he actually move out on his own? And where exactly is Ntiba? Always gotta get some Wilson in there and you'll see the OC's (especially Kyle) again soon so hope you are still with me and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	11. Trying to Readjust?

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 11 – Trying to Readjust?**

 **A/N:** Am kinda disheartened to see so many left or didn't like last week's update (took some of the wind out of my sails and my plan for weekly updates). I'm sorry if people aren't liking this SL but to the few that have remained I do thank you and appreciate your reviews, they mean a lot. Whoever's left please enjoy this update. Thank you.

* * *

Having just survived another restless night, Chase awakens early the next morning with a head full of agitated steam and wanting nothing more than to hear his current tormentor has been found in Africa and arrested for conspiracy and murder.

Since House had been up with him a few times, Chase wants to let the older man sleep as long as possible and without thinking about how he'd get back in, pulls on his runners and heads for the front door, slips into the hallway and then heads toward the elevator, wanting to jog off some pent up anxiety.

The morning air feels actually soothing on his flushed skin but due to lack of sleep and any real food, his body starts to shiver a bit sooner than expected and he's forced to get into his run without too much of a warm up. At first he starts out slow, just wanting to get his body used to something other than what he's been doing the past few days – resting…or just sitting around and trying to rest…trying to forget…desperate to forget.

But as his mind once again conjures up images of himself being held on the lap of one of the inmates and his body struggling in vain to get free, his speed picks up, his heart rate increases and his agitation soars. He runs until his body is begging to collapse, spies a park bench and aims for it, letting out a small growl of frustrated anger as he slumps down.

His head starts to pound from just stopping so suddenly and his stomach slightly cramps but he knows if he didn't he would have probably sustained an injury. He remains in place on the somewhat soggy morning, his head a mixture of anxiety and fatigue and wanting to drown out the voices still lingering in his head.

 _Next time bring ear buds and listen to some music!_ His mind chastises as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, wanting to calm his chest and heart rate before starting back. However, he's so lost in his own muddled thoughts that he fails to hear his name being called until the person is practically next to him with a hand reaching out.

"Robert?"

But that's all Kyle gets out as Chase grabs the hand and gives it a good yank forward, causing the other younger man to stumble and nearly lose his footing.

"Oh bugger," Chase softly curses as he looks at Kyle in horror. "Kyle!"

"Sorry I uh…I called your name but…didn't mean to startle you like that," Kyle replies as he stands a few meters away with an apologetic glance. "So…"

"Were you following me?"

"What? No I…"

"House didn't put you up to this?" Chase interjects in haste as Kyle shrugs but shakes his head. "Oh…" _first you were angry and now you sound disappointed?_ His brain chides.

"I…live just over there…" Kyle points to a modest brownstone style condo in the near distance. "Was just out…for a run. House…that's…your dad right?"

"Sometimes feels like it," Chase lightly smiles as he gestures for Kyle to sit on the bench. "Didn't mean to react so…harshly."

"I get it," Kyle replies somewhat casually. "Nice day for a run though," he adds in a somewhat awkward tone.

"Yeah."

A bit of silence starts to develop as each of them sit staring forward with a stony expression.

"So…anything new in the case?" Chase finally breaks the mounting uncomfortable silence.

"Still looking for one of the missing African guys I think," Kyle replies softly as he looks at Chase with a heavy frown. "I was thinking…I will act as Carlo's legal counsel for his next hearing. He's trying to really make a case for why he should have a reduced sentence and…"

"Why was he in there in the first place? Didn't seem…maybe he is and I just…" Chase's voice trails off as he looks away in misery.

"It was a transport issue and he was put into that holding cell along with a few others that…it was just bad timing."

"Or arranged that way," Chase adds with a clip as Kyle's blond brows slightly arch. "Not with Carlos though…unless someone wanted to get him into trouble."

"You sound like Richard…he's always looking for the conspiracy theory in everything."

"House is the same. I guess I get it from him," Chase shrugs and slightly smiles.

"Carlos did kill someone. But he claimed it was self-defense, for the death of his son."

"Oh," Chase states softly and then looks at Kyle in quiet frustration. "I don't blame you. I…well to be honest I blame me."

"What? Why? You didn't cause…well any of that."

"I kinda…" Chase stops as he looks down at his hands as they fidget with…nothing in particular. "Guess we all wish we could go back to that one moment…but then like House said…it might not have changed what happened. Ntiba…he might have found another way…or blamed someone else."

"I hope they find him soon."

"Yeah…me too," Chase looks up with a tense smile. "It uh…" Chase starts just as the sky opens up and starts to blanket them with a fine misting of rain. "Saved…by the rain. Sorry."

"It's okay…I get you not wanting to talk about it," Kyle states as they both slowly stand up.

"It hurts to talk about it but I think it's worse to bottle it up inside," Chase states somewhat glumly.

"Plus…you don't know me that well so…yeah I get it," Kyle replies with a tight lipped smile.

"Let me know how it goes with Carlos."

"I will."

Chase gives Kyle a friendly wave and then heads back to House's apartment, his anxiety somewhat lessened after talking to Kyle for a few minutes. And although he doesn't know the mild mannered attorney all that well and could hold out blame inside for him not stopping the attacks sooner…somehow it just felt right…a kindred friend perhaps.

However, that small bit of elation is short lived when he returns back to the apartment, opens the door and then looks at the somewhat angry expression on House's face.

"I don't have a key but an old lady let me in and I forgot my phone," Chase gulps as House holds up Chase's buzzing phone.

"Great deduction Sherlock!" House tosses out in mild annoyance. "What the hell were you thinking! You know Ntiba is out there!"

Chase's lips slightly purse as he rubs his face and then looks at House in boyish remorse. "I had so much anxiety inside that…"

"There is a gym downstairs!" House interjects sharply as Chase nods in resignation.

"I just needed…to run. I need to run to just get out…to…just run," Chase admits as he leans against the wall with a heavy sigh, his eyes looking up as his brain tries to get his heart rate to lower. "I wanted to feel a bit of freedom…just to run."

House looks at the tense posture of the younger man and feels his tension starting to subside somewhat. "Next time…take your phone."

"Okay…"

"To the gym…"

"But…"

"Downstairs!" House finishes with a small clip to his tone as Chase's head slightly dips. "When that bastard is caught you can run around the world if you want…"

Chase lifts his weary gaze and looks at House and then silently nods before continuing and then slightly smirks. "Would you sponsor me?" Chase tosses out cheekily and then frowns.

"I was worried."

"Sorry. I ran into Kyle," Chase rambles off with a small frown as his hand rises to tenderly touch his cheek. "He didn't mention anything about….my appearance. I know I look rough."

"Would have been rude if he asked given the fact he knows what happened," House replies in a softer tone. "I worry because I don't know where Ntiba is and we both know what he's capable of."

"Do they have any leads at all?"

"I'll call Simons this a bit later."

"Okay," Chase pulls away as he heads toward the small spare bedroom, muttering in an undertone something about taking a shower and then coming for breakfast. But when he reappears into the hallway and see House still fixed in the same place he stops and cocks his head in wonder. "I promise I'll take my phone next time."

"No I uh…" House starts and then stops; his brain rapidly replaying his discussion with Wilson from the night before.

"Never known you to be at a loss for words," Chase gently chides. "I'll be out soon."

House gives Chase a simple nod and then watches as Chase nears and is about to disappear into the bathroom behind a closed door. "This situation…" House starts; his words prompting Chase to stop in his tracks. "It's prompting me to ponder a few new things as well and…I think you should talk to someone."

Silence starts to build as both of them look at each other with somewhat strained expressions.

"I…talk to you," Chase replies curtly. And before House can say another word, Chase disappears into the bathroom and closes the door rather briskly.

"That…went well," House huffs as he turns and heads into the kitchen, muttering something about it being Wilson's fault in an undertone and then pouring himself a strong cup of coffee. But as he slowly shuffles toward the window he recalls Wilson's words about not giving up. _He'll balk at first…push back and say he's okay…just watch him over the next few days and then try again._

And he would.

XXXXXXXX

 _You need to talk to someone…_ Chase's reflection scolds as he looks at his rough and somewhat weary reflection in the steamy mirror a few feet away. He looks down at the healing cut on his arm and instantly his eyes squeeze shut.

 _'Hold him!'_

 _'Come on pretty boy…stop your struggling now!'_

 _His body was thrashing as his arms struggled to pull themselves free; free from behind trapped behind his back. But that was to no avail and he was pushed up against the bars and then spun around. However, as he was spun, a jagged corner on one of the door hinges snagged his arm and tore open._

"I don't need…help," Chase tells his reflection firmly as he steps into the heated shower stall and under the warm streams of water; letting the hot streams run down his tense frame and help to alleviate some of his nervous agitation. "I don't…" he tries to tell himself once more as he nods and then reaches for the soap.

But as he does he hears the voices in his head once more…feels their hot breath on his neck and swings balled fist which thankfully slams with the fleshy side part into the wall and not the knuckles themselves. "I don't!" Chase snaps at himself once more and then hurries to finish his shower.

When he rejoins House in the kitchen House hands him a cup of coffee and promises to not talk about the case during their time to sit down and enjoy the meal.

"I need to go back to work today. With you there…"

"I'm not in charge remember…so we can go to the zoo if you'd rather," House suggests with a shrug and friendly smile. "Foreman's the big boss right now and…and it might be…too soon."

"You're actually concerned about me having a meltdown at work?" Chase asks with a small smirk.

"I like to create gossip on my employee's sordid dating details. Not…"

"One where an employee didn't do anything to stop themselves from being assaulted!" Chase tosses back in anger and then looks down at his food, placing his fork down and reaching for his mug of coffee. "Guess…I'm not making a good case as to why I should be going back."

"You have to prove it to yourself first…the rest of us are second. But…if you can't treat or diagnose a patient without…well having a meltdown then you tell me…if you had an employee like that would you let them come back to work?"

"I can't just go home and…do nothing. Can't just sit there and watch TV all day or…sit and think," Chase admits stonily. "I won't do…lab stuff or…"

"How about we get ready, go to work and then…play it by ear," House suggests as Chase looks up thoughtfully.

"Okay," Chase agrees slowly and then tries to finish the rest of his breakfast. He tells himself that everything will be okay. But even an hour later, after both are dressed and heading for PPTH, his agitation soars and his stomach starts to churn. He quickly takes a pill to settle his stomach and takes a few deep breaths at House's urging but knows that House won't be able to keep an eye on him all day and so will have to try on his own to ensure he doesn't have any kind of physical or emotional meltdown and be forced to go home.

"If you need a timeout or just…a moment to yourself go into my office and close the door. You'll get the easy stuff today," House tells Chase as they exit the elevator and slowly head toward his office. Foreman is the first to discover them, slipping into House's office and then looking at Chase in surprise.

"Dr. Chase," Foreman greets with a sympathetic expression. "How…are you?"

"Fine," Chase replies simply as he gives Foreman a firm nod. "I told House…I can't just stay home and watch TV or…"

"No… _how_ are you?"

"I don't need therapy. House tried suggesting it and I don't need it. It wasn't a full on assault so…I'm fine," Chase concludes his nervous ramble with another firm nod as he pulls away and heads for House's large leather chair.

"Anything?" House asks Foreman in wonder.

"Detective Simons was here to review the footage and you can clearly see that Dr. Chase put down the test results and an arm in a black suit reaches for it…we can't see the face and all three of Dibala's advisors, including Ntiba were wearing black suits that day."

"Course," House retorts in sarcasm.

"But it proves Chase's statement to be correct and the theory of murder on the part of one of Dibala's closest advisors. I'll let you know if anything else is found."

"Okay," House agrees and then turns back to see Chase watching him in curiosity.

"Did you know about the security footage?" Chase inquires.

"I knew you were innocent," House replies proudly as Chase shakes his head. "We just need Simons to prove it."

"Or find Ntiba and force the truth from him."

"Or that," House agrees as Taub and Cameron enter. House had told Foreman to tell the team that Chase had been falsely arrested by Ntiba and there was a fight at the jail before he was released but none of the other details. House had told Chase all that on the way to the hospital so he at least felt somewhat relieved when he answered a few questions and then the subject was dropped in favor of other news – Thirteen was coming back.

House dismisses the team and then watches as Chase's frame tenses even more and his jaw tightens…his mind telling him that this isn't a good idea and he should be home – resting. But he also knows that Chase can't just sit at home and dwell on what happened…he wouldn't wish that on any trauma survivor. But he would keep an eye on his youngest duckling, just to make sure that he didn't create any unnecessary medical complications.

Just before he gets up to go and check on a patient of his own, he watches as a familiar face enters the area and he offers the older man – the man about his age, a friendly nod as he enters.

"Detective."

"Doctor," Simons replies as he extends his hand to House and offers him a friendly smile in return.

"What's….going on?"

"Just thought I'd give you an update. Ntiba…he wasn't found in Africa. At least the airport he came from but…but he could have returned to anywhere in Africa. That is if he indeed put on a disguise and left the country."

"I hear doubt."

"Was thinkin' about what you said…and I think he's still here."

"Figured," House replies with a small hiss.

"One of the airport security guards thought they saw Ntiba enter the area for diplomats and then slip out the back door."

"How'd he know it was Ntiba? What did he say?"

"One thing of interest," Simons informs House as he pulls out a picture. "This…is a tattoo that Ntiba sports and this high up is almost impossible to hide. This is what the guard saw. This hasn't been leaked and only we have this picture. The guard came to us. So I've put out a wire to all precincts and airport security on the eastern seaboard, telling anyone to be looking for this tattoo. We'll find him. How's your boy?"

"He's…agitated. He's back today," House sighs as he leans against his desk and looks up with a heavy frown. "I told him to stay home…or just…he's stubborn."

"Wonder where he gets that from," Simons retorts sarcastically as House gently smirks.

"How's Kyle? Robert said he saw him this morning."

"Kyle mentioned that. I uh…I hate to say this…but what happened to your boy…it brought Kyle back…well to himself. He's been struggling as of late and now he has a bit more of a renewed purpose…I know that sounds wrong. Sorry."

"Robert doesn't blame Kyle. He blames Ntiba and…himself. I suggested therapy but he…he balked at it."

"Therapy is important. Keep on it. He might hate you at the start…but trust me…he'll thank you in the long run. Speaking of Robert…is he around? I just want to ask if he remembers seeing the tattoo. Might help us to know what part might be visible when he's wearing a suit or just a regular shirt. Just to see if he remembers it."

"I'll page him," House states as Simons phone rings. As he listens to the empty rings he hears the sharp agitation in Simons tone and looks at him in wonder. "What?"

"That other African…the one who bribed the guard and got away. One of our patrol men found his body in an alley way not far from here."

"Damn…Ntiba is taking out all his loose ends!" House growls and then looks down at his phone and then back up at Simons. "Something's wrong…Robert's not answering."

"What? Where is he?"

* * *

 **A/N:** So yes am speeding things up a bit here b/c I don't want to lose any more readers. Chase does need to talk about his bottled emotions and House is trying his hardest. But Ntiba has struck again. Does he have Chase now? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	12. Tangling with the Devil

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 12 – Tangling with the Devil**

* * *

 _"Or find Ntiba and force the truth from him."_

As soon as he left House's office, Chase's mind could think if nothing more. _If I were to find Ntiba…maybe get him to confess on record or…if he confesses then…he goes to jail and I can go home and…I made this mess I have to fix it!_

He had left before it was discovered that the body of the other Africa was found in an alley way close to the hospital, an indication that the man he was seeking was just about to make his final move against the last person who could properly finger him in President Dibala's death…murder.

But his brain argues back that the police are handling it and it's time to go to work…or at least try to get his brain back in the game.

"So…any lingering after effects?"

"Pardon?" Chase looks up at Taub in wonder.

"You know…from the ordeal."

"Effects what…?" Chase's anger starts to surge, making both Taub and the patient look at the normally mild-mannered intensivist in wonder.

"The…accident. House told us and then you told us and then…late night?" Taub concludes as he looks back down at the chart in his grasp.

"Late night…yes…spicy food," Chase gently stammers out his excuse through a tight lipped smile. "I'm okay."

"Ok-ay," Taub nods in return and then goes on to chatter about something pointless he did the night before.

Only Wilson knew that Chase was staying at House's place right after his harrowing ordeal so Chase quickly dropped the subject before Taub could ask anymore prying questions.

"Uh didn't you already…do that?" Taub's voice breaks into Chase's thoughts and Chase instantly has to berate himself and step back and nod in agreement. "I got it from here."

"I'll run the tests," Chase volunteers as he takes the charting documents and leaves the patient's room. But as he nears the lab his mind is instantly taken back in time to that fateful morning when a few small actions on his part changed the course of his life – in some ways forever.

 _I shouldn't have gotten involved…should have just left alone…_ his mind somberly ponders as she remains fixed in place outside the lab, looking in at the empty room in misery.

He resolves in his mind to get the tests in his hand done as soon as possible and then try to help Simons with the investigation in any way he could.

 _Ntiba is looking for me…maybe I can draw him here…get my phone to record him saying he killed Dibala and then…_

Of course it sounded a lot easier in his mind, followed by the incorrect assumption that the cavalry would just swoop in at the last minute, arrest the bad guy and he'd be able to finally start to emotionally recover. It was a good plan – in his mind, and his mind only, and one that wasn't going to come to fruition in the way he wanted.

Chase finishes the tests and then hurries back to Taub, telling him he just needed a bit of a break as the spicy food was playing havoc with his stomach and he'd be back in a bit.

"Yeah…take your time," Taub mutters as Chase disappears from view.

Chase ducks into the staff lounge as his lungs suddenly start to heave and his stomach tightens. _It's just…a panic attack at the thought of facing Ntiba….deep breaths…_ his brain commands as he hurries to the sink and splashes his face with cold water. _Deep…just breathe…_

Good advice but as he stands up and gently pats his face dry the thought of trying to get a confession from Ntiba makes his stomach lurch and the remaining breakfast contents want to be expelled.

"You can do this…" he tells himself as he looks back at the mirror. A few seconds later a mocking reflection of himself appears in his mind's eyes and then is projected onto the reflective surface.

 _'No you can't…you're buggered and you know it…'_ his reflection wags his finger in warning.

"I have to," Chase tells himself once more as he blinks several times and his mocking reflection disappears; replaced by one that now seems filled with doubt and uncertainty.

"I have to…" Chase states with a bit firmer conviction as he gives himself a nod and then turns away. "I have to…but how…"

He could go upstairs and tell Simons that he'd offer himself up as bait to catch Ntiba if that meant an end to all this madness. _Yeah…like House will go for that,_ his brain tosses back. He knows in that moment that House would argue…insist…come up with creative ways to NOT let that happen. _I'll wait for him outside…_

Chase steps outside into the fresh air, closing his eyes briefly and letting the cool morning air calm the rising heat from all his inner tension. Of course he knows it's risky but continues to inwardly reason that he was the cause of his own troubles…he was the one to blame and he should be the one to fix it.

Chase spies the police cruiser off to the left side and slowly heads toward it. His phone starts to buzz and he pulls it and then stops just as he reaches the cruiser and reads the text message from Kyle.

 _'Carlos will get a reduced prison sentence.'_

That thought makes Chase smile as he recalls during his darkest moment, one man dared to take on a cell full of others just to keep his dignity intact.

But just before he can text back that that was great news and if he could possibly meet Carlos to thank him for his help, he hears a distinct click and looks up in haste.

Instantly the color drains from his face and his heart rate zooms to an explosive level. Just as he eyes Ntiba's gun, his phone starts to ring and his mind is conflicted. He could answer and yell for help and then be shot or…so he goes with his second plan.

"Don't…answer that," Ntiba warns as his finger starts to pull back on the trigger. "Now…drop it."

As he holds his ground, Chase's mind puts into motion his second plan. So, just as he's about to drop the phone to the ground, he presses record and then lets it fall; his mind praying that it lands face down. It does. And it starts to silently record all words and sounds around it.

"There are police everywhere," Chase replies with a shaky tone, his brain ordering him to hold his ground and try to get Ntiba to confess on the record – as it were.

"Time to go…now," Ntiba orders as he lowers the weapon a bit further, aiming it right at Chase's stomach.

"Why me?" Chase asks directly, wanting to stall for as much time as possible in the hopes that House's paranoia would have him sending Simons or himself in search of the missing diagnostician team just in time. "Was it planned or…why me?"

"It was planned…I've hated my half-brother all my life!" Ntiba spits in anger as he nears Chase. "But it wasn't until I saw your reaction when Dibala touched you….the hatred and disgust in your eyes and then when you said you wanted him to stop the genocide. I followed you. Saw you take those test results and put them down. I took a copy of them and then went into his room right before you. And it worked. Timing was on my side. Now it's up for you."

"Just leave…why didn't you just leave?" Chase asks desperately as Ntiba gestures for him to start walking down an empty alleyway.

"Move. Now!" Ntiba hisses as he grabs Chase's arm and tries to drag him toward his waiting death site.

 _Fight back! Don't let him…try to run…DO SOMETHING!_ Chase's brain commands as his eyes nervously dart around in the hopes of catching the attention of someone that could help him – anyone. But not seeing anyone, he reluctantly darts into the alleyway just as House and Simons make their way to the ground level.

House had paged Chase on the overhead system and when he didn't pick up, House told Simons Ntiba was there to finish off Chase for good and he had to find him fast – or else!

 _"Losing Robert isn't an option!" House had told Simons in a panic when Chase didn't answer his phone or the page. "FIND HIM!"_

"House will find you!"

"Dr. House? What is your relationship to him?"

"My boss!" Chase hisses as he looks for an opening anywhere in the alley where he could run to after he tried to make a break from his captor. _Fake a fall or look back and pretend House is there or…_ and that's just what he decides to do. "House! Stop him!"

Since Ntiba knew there was the possibility that House could have been there, he falls for Chase's bluff and chances to take a look behind him. Chase uses those few seconds of the distraction to push at Ntiba, making him stumble but allowing the young Aussie to pull away and bolt down the alleyway.

However, Ntiba quickly recovers, raises his gun and then fires.

Chase hears the determined footsteps coming behind him but a few seconds later his brain registers something is very wrong. _He has a gun…why didn't he…_ but a few seconds later what his brain finally realizes what's wrong… _he has a silencer…and I've been SHOT!_

His right hand instantly wraps around his chest and clutches his left side, his lips gasping as his own fresh blood starts to ooze between his fingers.

Another ping and it grazes his arm, Chase's right hand reaching out and brushing the wall, leaving a fresh smear of blood on the bricks as he darts down another alleyway, further away from the hospital and his salvation.

Ntiba fires one more time and then smiles as he watches Chase stumble…and then start to fall forward to his knees. "Now…he dies."

He fires once more.

Chase feels something hit his back and his lips cry out as he tumbles headfirst toward the cement.

XXXXXXXX

"Robert!" House calls out as he hurries outside the back of the hospital; the area where Simons car was parked. "Where…" his voice dies out as Simons calls his partner for help. "Robert…where are you…" he huffs in desperation as his eyes frantically scan.

He dials Chase's number once more and then hurries toward the mouth of the alleyway. "Come on pick…" he starts and then stops as his cane strikes something. He looks down and instantly his heart drops as his brain correctly registers the back cover of the phone. "Oh no," he growls as Simons reaches his side.

"It's recording," Simons mentions as House stops the recording and then presses play. "It's…"

"Robert and Ntiba! Damn it!"

"Well they couldn't have gotten far!" Simons exclaims as he hurries toward the entrance of the alleyway; House texting Wilson to make sure if Chase did show up in his office to keep him there and then call. But that wasn't to be the way things play out. "Dr. House!" Simons shouts as he gestures for House to hurry.

"Oh God…no," House whispers in dread as his eyes fixate on the fresh crimson sludge and that coupled with Chase's disturbing absence forces his heart start to ache. "Robert…where…"

He watches Simons pull away hurry down the rest of the alleyway. "Should have made him stay home!" House growls as he looks back at the blood and then starts after Simons; his mind racing at top speed that Ntiba shot his beloved duckling and then dragged him somewhere and just…dumped his body.

But his mind instantly snaps back to reality when he hears Simons shouting at who can only be the very man they are chasing – Ntiba.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

He hears Simons shout and then disappear down the alleyway, his heart starting to thud painfully in his chest as he nears the corner that Simons had just rounded.

House's lips gasp when he rounds the corner and he suddenly stops short. Ntiba was hovering over Chase's unmoving body on the ground with his gun raised. Ntiba raised his gun to fire at Simons but Simons fired first and Ntiba's body falls to the ground beside Ntiba's.

While Simons quickly calls for an ambulance, House rushes toward his fallen duckling; his eyes spying the growing stain of red on the back of his white lab coat and his eyes instantly well.

"Robert!"

* * *

 **A/N:** eeks! Oh Chase is for a bit of a verbal scolding from House for trying to go after House on his own but that is only if he survives hehe (I'd never kill our beloved duckling!) so how will the reunion go up next? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	13. A Time to Heal

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 13 – A Time to Heal**

* * *

"Robert!" House shouts as he bypasses his own personal comfort and tries to bend down to feel for a pulse. But a small moan from Chase just as Simons nears with a horrified expression.

"Dr. House…your boy!"

"Call this number…ask for…just…get me a damn stretcher!" House shouts as his hands come away from Chase's neck with a the sense that his duckling is alive – for now. "Come on…open your eyes," House mutters as he quickly searches for the gunshot wound; his fingers coming away with warm crimson sludge. "Robert…"

"A Doctor Chan said he's sending a stretcher team right now."

House hears Simons talking to him but doesn't care to make his brain concentrate on the words, his mind is only interested in finding the wound and seeing to exactly how much damage has been done.

"Robert…" House's voice quivers as he slowly slides his hand up Chase's side, trying to push aside the folds of his coat and shirt in an attempt where the bullet had penetrated. But just as he thinks he's made some progress, his brain forces him to take notice of the medics shouting as they approach; another set of shouting sounds coming from a set of officers rushing to backup Simons.

"Step back sir…" one of the medics tells House as Simons hand rests on House's shoulder. But House shrugs off Simons hand and continues to try to find the bullet entry.

"Sir…"

"I need to find…" House mutters as Simons looks at the medic's in concern.

"SIR!"

Without waiting for House to comply, Simons gently pulls him back and allows the two medics to rush in and get to work on stabilizing Chase for the rushed transport into the ER. They hoist him up, leaving him on his stomach after House's direction that he had been shot in the back.

"I think…he was," House's voice stammers as he watches as the two medics rush away with Chase in their care. House looks down at the blood stains on his hands and then up at Simons in misery. "My boy…" he whispers as his throat goes dry. "He…he can't die."

"Come on," Simons directs House toward the waiting entrance to the ER.

Wilson looks up from his task in the ER and frowns as he notices a flurry of activity at the far end of the ER. "Jane…" Wilson asks his nurse in wonder. "What's…going on?"

"I don't know…I'll find out."

Wilson doesn't have to wait for his nurse to return, for a few seconds later he watches House rush in through the ER doors with a panicked look on his face. "Oh no…" he huffs as he hurries toward him. "House! What's going on? You're…bleeding?" Wilson states in a panic as he eyes the blood droplets and hand smears on his white coat.

"Robert…he uh…" House tries to answer as he looks at Wilson and then pulls away and hurries toward the doors of the emergency surgery room.

"What happened?" Wilson asks Simons.

"Robert confronted Ntiba and…they both lost. Ntiba is dead and Robert…looks like he was shot in the back."

"What?" Wilson asks in shock as he looks past the seasoned officer to the back of his best friend as he disappears through the ER surgical doors. "Shot…in the back?" Wilson asks weakly as he looks back at Simons. "This…this can't be."

XXXXXXXX

House stands mutely in the corner of the busy room, watching with a panicked gaze as the nurses quickly cut away the blood and dirt stained coat in an attempt to get at the wound on Chase's back. However, they are also met with another issue, the gunshot wound to his side. Time was running out.

 _This…this can't be…_ House's mind swirls with emotional misery as he watches gloved hands come away from the younger man's pale body covered in his blood. _He can't…die…HE CAN'T!_ his mind inwardly yells as his fists clench at his side. However, a few seconds later it breathes a sign of relief as he hears that the bullet missed the vertebrae and was simply lodged in a fleshy piece of shoulder muscle. _He tripped…he was running and…and his tripping…it saved his life…_ House's mind races to process the doctor's words as the wound is quickly stitched up and he's flipped over.

But as soon as Chase's body changes its position, the monitors start to scream and House's body lurches forward.

"Just his heart showing its objection!" The doctor calls out, halting House in his tracks. He remains in place and grits his teeth as he watches the doctor telling the nurses where the second bullet is and they need to get it out – NOW!

"Come on Robert….you have to pull through…you have to," House's soft whispered words chant over and over as he watches the doctor remove the second bullet and then orders his team to move even faster. "Bullet's out…" House mutters. "Clean the wound…close the wound…" he continues, his words not loud enough for the medical team to hear but loud enough for his lips to try to convince his ears that Chase would pull through.

His fears, however, would not be put to rest just yet as the doctor calls out "WE'RE LOSING HIM!" and House's eyes widen in uncertain terror. "Work…faster…" he wills the medical staff as Wilson and Simons slowly pace outside; Wilson having already told Foreman and Simons on the phone with Kyle.

"HE'S BACK! WE GOT HIM BACK!"

"Thank…God," House whispers appreciatively as he leans against the wall and watches the medical team race to keep Chase alive and finish treating his wounds.

It seems like a small eternity until the doctor tells his team good job and then steps back and looks at House with a small frown.

"He's going to be okay," he tells House as he pulls away and then slowly heads toward House, tossing his bloody gloves into a nearby disposal bin.

"I had to stay…to know either way," House admits weakly. "He needs…to pull through."

"Didn't know you had family Dr. House. The nurse…said it was your son?"

"He's family," House admits with tightly drawn lips. "Can I…see him?"

"He's not cleaned up yet and still in his medically induced coma but…yeah for a few minutes until we move him up to the ICU for recovery."

House offers the doctor a silent nod and then slowly heads towards Chase's unconscious body. He had only a blanket draped over his lower half; his upper half marred with bruises, blood residue, black webbing and a few surgical scars. House's eyes start to scan each wound, wanting to make sure they were treated, cleaned and then dressed properly.

"Should be mad at you…stupid thing going after…what the hell were you thinking!" House's voice rises and then drops when one of the nurse's approaches with arched brows. "My boy…I uh…what room?"

"3C," she replies with a small frown.

"I'll be right up."

Wilson looks up as House finally reappears in the ER waiting area and hurries toward his weary best friend. "How is Robert?"

"He's…going to be fine," House tells Wilson in truth and then looks at Simons with a grateful expression. "Thank you."

"I'm just glad he's going to pull through."

"I'll tell the others," Foreman informs them. "A mugging…gone bad."

House watches Foreman leave and then looks back at Simons with a tired frown. "Case…closed?"

Simons nods and then offers a small clap on House's back. "I'll take care of a few things to close this case. As for his statement…"

"Damn…another," House groans as Simons holds up the small evidence bag with Chase's phone and the recorded confession in it.

"This one shouldn't be too hard to file though. I already listened to the whole confession. Ntiba…he copped to it all. A statement will be a formality. And I'll make sure if any real charges were filed that they'll all be dismissed as false. It really is over now."

"Time to heal…for all of us," House states softly as he shakes Simons hand.

"I'll be by later."

"We both will be," Kyle adds as he gives House a friendly smile.

House watches them leave and then turns to Wilson with a small look of distress. "I want to throw up," he admits for the ears of his best friend only.

"Come on…you need to rest a little. Robert is asleep…time to get some yourself," Wilson tells House, directing him toward a small room and not taking no for an answer; House to tired and emotionally spent to argue and allowing Wilson to help him.

XXXXXXXX

House slumps down into the chair beside the bed that Chase is now resting in in the ICU; the monitors overhead offering steady and comforting sounds. He looks at the piece of paper in his grasp, a print out of the transcript of the phone recording that Simons had faxed over an hour earlier.

 _'Why me…'_

It was those words about all else…those few words begging with desperate emotion in an attempt to understand why he had been targeted and why his life had been turned upside down for no fault of his own.

Of course he couldn't fault Chase for wanting the truth but the fact that he went after Ntiba on his own or just… _did he call him there? Or was Ntiba there and it was just bad…timing? Bad luck? Fate?_ House rubs his weary face and then looks at Chase's pale, placid expression.

 _'Saw when he touched you…the hatred in your eyes…'_

 _'Why me?'_

"Why…" House whispers as he looks up at Chase's sleeping face and feels his heart droop. But Simons words also echo in his head – _'it really is over.'_ That was the truth. Ntiba was dead and it would be published in his native country's media and on US soil as well that Ntiba was responsible for the murder of President Dibala and although a few were affected along the way, it was over in a shootout with Police.

Chase's monitors slightly jump, breaking House from his morbid thoughts and his eyes quickly divert from the paper up to the blinking lights.

"Just relax Robert," House whispers as his hand reaches out and rests on his forearm. "You just need to relax."

Despite being in the medically induced coma, Chase's body seems to respond to House's fatherly touch and it instantly subsides in its slight twitching.

"That's it…just relax my boy…just relax."

House hears some soft shuffling and looks up to see Wilson hovering in the doorway, pausing a few seconds before proceeding toward him. "He's…holding steady."

"He'll be fine. He's resting…you need to also," Wilson reminds him again. Both of them look at the younger man a few feet away from them and both offer worried looks and frowns but remain silent. "You didn't listen earlier. He's resting. Your turn."

Finally House listens.

"Maybe…you're right."

XXXXXXXX

 _Get the confession…you started this…he saw you…get him to confess…if he confesses….it's all over…get it on record…_

A few hours later Chase's mind slowly starts to pull him out of his medically induced fog and his eyes slowly start to open. His mouth feels like cotton and his head still pounds but once he blinks away the blurry tears, the room starts to come into focus. He looks over and sees House slumped over on a nearby sleeping chair and feels his body instantly start to settle from a few nervous jitters.

But just as his mind starts to think he can settle into a bit more rest, his mind reminds him he was shot in the back and his panic starts to surge. _Shot in the back…can I move…legs…arms…neck…something!_

"You're going to be fine."

"Am I…paralyzed?" Chase manages in a hoarse tone as he looks up at House in haste.

"No," House answers simply.

"Ntiba?"

"Dead and you're going to be fine however…I do have to ask…what the hell were you thinking!" House's voice rises sharply and then falls when he looks at Chase's remorse-filled expression. "Sorry…I just…"

"Are angry?"

"At you almost getting yourself killed? Damn straight I'm angry!" House huffs and then quickly lowers his voice.

"Had to get him…to confess…" Chase manages with a small huff as he tries to swallow. "House…"

"Everything is okay. Simons got the confession and took out Ntiba and now…now you need to concentrate on getting better and thinking of some indoor hobbies."

"Indoor?" Chase tries again.

"You're grounded for the rest of your life!"

Chase offers a small smile as he nods and closes his eyes. "Yes dad," he whispers in soft sarcasm. House's lips slightly tug upward as he watches the younger man settle back into a restful slumber.

House watches as the monitors slowly subside and his heart settles. The terror was over. His beloved duckling was safe. The future was theirs to take back and now was the time to heal. And he'd make sure that Robert would get the proper physical healing and then he'd ensure his mental healing and in the end their growing familial bond would be stronger than ever.

* * *

 **A/N:** Course I wasn't going to kill our duckling and while he did get a bit of a scolding papa House took a bit of pity on his boy but…that might change up next hehe hope you all liked this update and please do review before you go and thanks so much.


	14. New Situations & New Fears

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 14 – New Situations & New Fears**

* * *

Chase's eyes slowly open a few hours later and he looks around his quiet hospital room and his weary body starts to stretch; his lips uttering a soft groan as he quickly recoils with a painful gasp.

"After all that you're still not listening to me?"

Chase looks up as House nears, his sandy blond brows arching and offering him a boyish frown.

"That lost puppy look won't work on me right now," House gently growls as he plops himself down into the chair beside Chase's bed. "I'm still mad at you."

"Mad?" Chase asks in weak surprise as a small twitch tugs at the corner of House's lips. "I nearly died."

"I can be mad at dead people!" House gently snaps as Chase gives him a head shake.

"Mad?" Chase asks once more as he reaches for a familiar object on the small table beside his bed. "So…this is you mad?"

"Damn ducky," House hisses in sarcasm as he snatches the little yellow toy from the younger man's grasp and looks at the wide goofy grin. "Wilson brought it."

"Right…" Chase gently teases as House reaches over and gently places the little ducky on his chest. Chase's eyes drop to the goofy smile on the little ducky on his chest as his fingers reach out and reach for the ducky and picks it up. His lips hold a smile for a few seconds before his expression clouds and his smile droops.

"What?" House softly prods as Chase's lips slightly purse.

"He was right…I hated Dibala…maybe wanted him dead but as soon as he touched me…that's why I wanted to be the one to end it," Chase confesses as he looks up at House in soft defeat.

"Well…you did," House retorts with a small huff; Chase's lips dropping. "I'm not faulting your motives but…oh hell yes I am! You could have been killed!"

"I didn't call him. I was outside and saw him and…and I thought that he'd….confess just to me and…"

"And what? Just walk away? Tell you have a nice life or some other cheery tidbit? He'd been planning that murder probably for years and left a trail of bodies in his wake! Thank God you actually got to walk away," House concludes in a quieter tone as Chase's frown deepens. "I get it…but I still don't agree with it."

"So…it's over now right?"

"Just one more statement to Simons to wrap this up and…yes the case is now closed."

"You paused," Chase is quick to pounce on the verbal delay.

"I did not," House tries to argue back.

"I know you…you paused and that means something else needs to be…well finished up."

House's lips purse as he looks at the younger man's expectant expression and frowns. "You need to rest now Robert."

"What happened? There's still someone out there? Wanting revenge?" He asks weakly.

"I think you should talk to someone about what happened."

"No…what? No really, I'm fine…" Chase insists as House's arms fold across his chest. "I'm…fine."

House remains silent but continues to glare at Chase who starts to feel his agitation starting to surface.

"I don't want to relive that again."

"I don't blame you but I heard about the incident in the patients room and the lab with Taub and those kinds of mistakes…could be costly for you…and the facility," House tries to explain as Chase looks back down at the little ducky with a heavy frown. "I'll be your boss again soon and then I'll be worried personally as well as professionally."

This time it's Chase's turn to remain silent and then look away for a few seconds, his slender shoulders slumping before he turns back to House with a small huff.

"Just one more thing right?"

"No one else will know about it."

"You sure?" Chase counters.

"Foreman told the team you were mugged and Simons has closed the case. The only thing that'll make headlines is that Ntiba plotted the murder of President Dibala, along with a bunch of well-paid co-conspirators who have all been dealt with. Namely…they're all dead."

"All of them?" Chase asks in weak surprise as House nods.

"That's why he wasn't a man to suffer lightly. So when I scold you for confronting him on your own…I am justified," House states in mild triumph.

"Okay…" Chase sighs as he slumps back down onto his pillow, looking up for a few moments and then over at House with a small smile. "Can I go to sleep now?"

"No. Get up and drop and give me twenty."

"Easy. One arm or two?"

"Brat," House retorts as Chase chuckles. But he can only offer an affectionate nod and watch as the younger man drifts back into sleep.

XXXXXXXX

"Easy…just go easy," House gently cautions Chase as he helps the younger man stand up. A day had passed and the doctor had just removed the catheter and Chase was more than anxious to get up and stretch his legs a little.

Chase holds onto House's arm and remains in place a few moments while the room starts to gently spin. He closes his eyes as he feels House pat his hand and then nods. "I need to walk. Feel like I've been lying in that bloody bed for days."

"Technically it's only been a day…and a half," House deadpans as Chase inhales sharply. "Easy steps."

"I know how to walk," Chase groans as they slowly start toward the entrance of his hospital room. "I can go home tomorrow right?"

"No," House retorts as they pause for a few seconds as Chase's breathing becomes somewhat shallowed. "What's going on?"

But Chase doesn't have to say anything as House's gaze follows his and rests upon a man standing at the nursing station.

"It's uh…it's…" Chase's voice stammers as he slowly starts to hyperventilate.

"Robert…what is it?" House asks in a calm but firm tone.

"It's uh…it's…" Chase tries once more.

But when House feels Chase tense in his grasp he gently steers them back into his hospital room and Chase looks at House in concern.

"What was that all about?" House inquires, wanting to hear from the younger man the reason he already knows.

"The man…he uh…he…it was nothing…"

"He reminded you of one of the men who assaulted you?" House continues to gently prod.

"Yes," Chase answers with a tight lipped expression. "I don't mind resting now."

"Robert…"

"I'm okay…I just need to…rest. I'm okay," Chase insists as he slowly sits back down on the bed. "Don't say it. I have moments but I know what they are from. I don't need to go and see a shrink."

House doesn't push the issue as he knows there will be other opportunities for him to talk about getting Chase into therapy – for his own future wellbeing. He arranges the blanket over Chase's frame and then pulls out the large paper bag that Wilson had brought for them.

"Lunch…courtesy of Dr. James Wilson."

House watches Chase reach for the small packet that Wilson had made for them; the younger man eating in silence as he contemplates what happened earlier. But he keeps reminding him that it'll come.

After lunch Chase had slipped back into a restful slumber, House at his bedside watching him with fatherly concern before he too closed his eyes for an hour of muchly needed rest. A few hours later, House pushes himself up from the chair and slowly reenters the quiet ICU hallway and watches as a familiar face approaches.

"Kyle," House greets the younger man as he approaches.

"Dr. House," Kyle replies with a small smile. "Is Robert awake? Wanted to say hi and just update him on Carlos case."

"He's…sleeping right now. I think. Maybe not. Boy never listens," House chirps in sarcasm as another familiar face appears.

"Do they ever?" Simons retorts as House's smile slowly widens.

"Go check and see. I think I heard him muttering about something," House suggests as Kyle nods and moves past House and into Chase's room.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"And a donut?" House tosses back dryly.

"Gotta watch my girlish figure," Simons chuckles. "My late wife was always on me about that. I always played right into the stereotype of cops and donuts but I didn't mind…don't think she did either."

"What happened?"

"Cancer."

"Sorry."

"Yeah…me too," Simons agrees.

Chase hears some laughing outside his room and looks up as Kyle enters and offers his new a friendly smile and nod.

"Hey…thought I'd drop by and update you on Carlos. But uh…how are you?"

"I got lucky," Chase replies with a heavy sigh. "Did Carlos get a reduced sentence?"

"He did. And it…it felt good to help him. How are you doing after all this? Besides the…well the obvious injury," Kyle gently smirks.

"I'll be happy when I get out of this place. Doctor said…maybe one more day."

"Which one?" Kyle retorts; making Chase chuckle. "Do you ever…you know give them your own diagnosis after they do?"

"There's a reason they say doctors make the worst patients."

"And lawyers make the worst clients," Kyle smiles. "Do you have someone to you know…talk to about what happened?"

"I…House mentioned it also but…I'll be okay."

Kyle's lips slightly purse as he looks at Chase with a small frown. "I'm sure House has said this but…well it's important. Trust me."

"Kyle…."

"From personal experience…trust me," Kyle nods as they both watch House and Simons reappear.

Chase looks at Kyle as he stands up and his brain starts to race. _Kyle was assaulted too…it made sense…most of it…_

"So…who's up for a friendly game of poker?"

The four of them settle in around the small table, enjoying the next hour building new friendships. But as House watches Chase he knows – the smile the younger man is displaying is a friendly façade; the incident earlier had shaken him more than he wanted to admit out loud. However, he settles in his mind that as soon as Chase was out of the hospital he'd make sure that the younger man talked to someone. Whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

 **A/N** : So Chase is on the road to recovery. And wanted to bring in the OCs for a few little moments/broments and as much as Chase is bucking against House's suggestion he might just have second thoughts about that. A bit more to come so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	15. Taking Back the Future

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 15 – Taking Back the Future**

* * *

They had had a great time with Kyle and Richard, House admitting to Chase after their new friends had left that he felt an odd kindred with the older police officer; Chase admitting that he and Kyle had a friendly conversation as well.

 _'I think Kyle was assaulted also…'_

As Chase sleeps in his hospital bed, House sits silently in the chair beside him with a weary but concerned expression.

 _'What did he say?'_

 _'That talking to someone was important and to trust him as he'd know…don't think he'd say that otherwise.'_

That thought instantly clouded Chase's expression and House felt his heart sink in that moment. Of course what happened to Kyle was terrible and he couldn't fault Chase in any way for not asking for details. But it might have just been the incentive that Chase needed to see that talking to someone was part of the healing process and if others thought it necessary he should too.

 _Course I can always just force him to go…_ House's mind trails off as fatigue starts to tug at his weary eyes. He tries to force himself to keep away, keep watch over the younger man so that in case Chase needed to get up and walk or use the facilities he'd be there to make sure that he didn't suffer a fall or something…

 _You're just paranoid…or overly concerned or…_ yeah yeah House's mind pushes back. Once he's all healed, he'll go back to his apartment and life will resume as normally. But as soon as he thinks about going back to empty apartment, an odd feeling of loneliness starts to consume him.

' _Do you live alone?'_ He remembers asking Richard as they bonded over a cup of hot coffee.

' _After Alice died…yeah it was a tough time. I had worked with Kyle on a few cases and then he…well he had a rough case that changed things for him and I kinda took him under my wing…not professionally just…well I kinda adopted him. I helped him get back on his feet and he…he helped me through my grief by just being there. Now he lives in the basement suite in my place so we each have our own space but at least neither of us are alone…worked out well.'_

House looks at Chase and frowns. _He wouldn't want to come and live with me…he has his life…this is just a temporary setback._

With that sobering thought, House slumps back into the chair and closes his eyes; this time sleep winning the battle.

XXXXXXXX

"NO!" Chase gasps as he's ripped from another horrific nightmare; his body wracked with sweat and his heart racing at top speed. He looks over at House who is quick to stir and can only offer him a heavy frown. "So…sorry…" he huffs as he looks at House in remorse, a few beads of sweat starting to slide down his flushed face.

"No...don't be sorry. Here…" House pauses as he slowly pushes himself up and gets a cold glass of water for Chase to sip slowly. "Nightmare?"

"Yes…thanks," Chase gently pants as appreciation as he takes a sip and then pauses. "They'll…pass."

"The nightmares…yes in time."

"House…" Chase groans as House leans in a bit closer and gently dabs the back of Chase's damp neck and then slumps back down in the chair facing him. "No…I don't want to talk about it."

"Didn't ask. I'm going back to sleep. I guess you should try that also," House replies somewhat bluntly; Chase's lips pursing. House closes his eyes as Chase slumps back down onto his pillow, his eyes remaining open and staring up. House opens one eye but then quickly closes it when Chase looks over. "Want to talk about it?" He asks with his eyes still closed.

"That's what therapy is…so why can't you be my therapist?"

"Can't afford me," House retorts as his eyes open and he looks at Chase in tender concern. "Telling me about a nightmare and exploring your loss of control with a trained professional are two different things," he explains pointedly. "Both are beneficial."

"I keep seeing you…watching me while I call for help and then….walking away disappointed," Chase admits somberly.

"Which of course you know is nonsense," House quickly qualifies. "I'd only be disappointed if you quit for good and by that I mean quit the big game…of life. It can come to that. I've seen it with others and…I would never not help you if it was within my power to do so. Put your mind at ease as far as that goes. Just in case you were…you know wondering."

"Try to tell myself I'm not different and that it was just…yeah," Chase's words die out into a nervous laugh before it darkens again once more. "I guess I should try to fix that before I'm home by myself."

"Worry about healing first and then finishing your recovery alone…if that happens," House's words die out as Chase looks over in wonder. "Need to get up?"

"I…yeah I should," he grumbles as he swings his legs over the bed and pauses for a few seconds before he slowly stands up and looks at House with a slight frown. He pulls away and slowly heads toward the bathroom, thankful to be leaving the hospital tomorrow and resting in a soft bed and with some home cooked… _you don't cook…microwave meals?_ That thought utterly depresses him as he closes the door for some privacy but tells himself he can't just mooch off House because that wouldn't be fair. This was his issue…he tells himself that he needs to be the one to deal with it.

At least when he returns to bed, his body is so exhausted that he's able to just fall into a deep sleep for a few hours – awakening again when it's morning.

XXXXXXXX

"House…I don't mind going to my place," Chase tries to softly protest as House ushers him toward the waiting car; Wilson already at the car and stowing Chase's bag in the trunk for the ride to House's apartment.

"Tell him to stop protesting," House tells Wilson as they near the car; Chase shaking his head.

"You know you're not going to win this argument."

"I was cleared to go home," Chase counters.

"Doctors…what do they know," House tosses out in sarcasm as they reach the car and stop. "Your body needs to heal and…well you need to gain some weight," House huffs as Wilson watches in amusement. "Do you even know where your stove is?"

"Funny," Chase deadpans. "I won't argue that you're the better cook."

"You won't argue at all. We're going to my place and that's final," House states as he opens the back door for Chase to get in.

"Right," Chase mutters in an undertone as he slowly climbs into the backseat. In his mind he was more than overjoyed at being able to go back to House's and rest up but at the same time feeling guilty at using up all the older man's resources because he wasn't too keen on going back to his apartment and trying to make healthy meals for himself alone. _But I can pitch in with the food expenses…and just the expenses in general._

The ride to House's apartment is spent talking about the case closing, the fallout in Africa and Richard and Kyle; Chase possibly going to therapy is kept silent – for now. As soon as they enter Chase heads for the spare bedroom and pulls out his little ducky and places it onto the table beside the bed and smiles.

"Nap time," he whispers as his body eagerly falls onto his uninjured side, pulls a blanket up to his shoulders and closes his eyes. House pauses in the doorway and offers him a small smile before he continues on toward his own bedroom.

"Might as well rest when he is. You've hardly slept in a few days," Wilson wisely reminds his weary best friend.

As much as House wants to argue he knows he cannot; if he wanted to look after Chase at all, he'd also need his rest. So after giving Wilson a nod, he too falls into bed and is asleep within minutes. Wilson closes the door half way and heads into the living room where he opens his laptop and is able to work for a few solid hours.

XXXXXXXX

House helps Chase work through another nightmare and then both of them join Wilson in the kitchen and the three of them work together to make an enjoyable meal for them all to share. Once again, neither House nor Wilson bombarded Chase with suggestions about him talking to someone – a professional therapist. House had a plan in place and that's what they both had to stick to, for Chase's ultimate benefit.

"He's struggling but…I can see some improvement," Wilson comments in a quiet tone as he and House finish cleaning up the kitchen. "I think being here is good for him…for you both."

"For him," House tries to protest as Wilson just offers him a small smile and nod. "I always make too much food anyways. Nice to have another mouth to feed," House pauses as Wilson opens his mouth to add something. "Other than yours," House adds in sarcasm as Wilson's mouth closes. House offers his best friend a smirk before he heads for the coffee maker to make them all an after dinner drink.

"You need….some better series to record."

"Kourtney and Khloe take Manhattan not your thing?" House retorts as Chase shakes his head and then changes the channel. "Try the second folder," House suggests as he settles into his large reclining chair. "Better?"

"I'm going back to…here," Chase comments as he finds something on the History channel and then puts the remote down.

"That'll do…"

House doesn't really care about the content of the show just as long as it doesn't cause his youngest duckling any agitation or force him to think about his hellish ordeal. But due to the wound on his back, Chase isn't able to sit for the full few hours and soon finds himself fidgeting and then pacing in the hallway and peering into the living room before he slumps down onto the spare bed and exhales heavily.

"I know this is only temporary…" Chase mutters as House's frame appears in the doorway. "But no matter what I do I feel…uncomfortable after a time."

"It'll pass," House reminds him as he looks at him in concern. "But…I do have one of those moldable body pillows that you can use. It might help to alleviate some of the tension on…either side," House suggests as Chase offers him a small smile.

"Okay."

"Okay," House agrees as he watches Chase slowly stand up and follow him. "You were awfully quiet tonight," House comments as he opens the door to the spare closet in the hallway. "Was it Wilson?"

"No."

"The dinner?"

"No."

But it's the way Chase answers that forces House to arch his brows in wonder. "Robert…what's going on? Was dinner terrible? If it made you feel sick then…"

"I feel like a bit of an ingrate," Chase shrugs. "Eating your food and…Can I buy you some groceries? Or…I don't want to stay for free."

"If I wanted your money I would have asked up front," House states pointedly. "I don't need your money but if you want to contribute to the meals to make yourself feel better than by all means."

Chase offers House a small smile and House notices that the younger man's shoulders relax and actually feels his own body offer a sigh of relief. "This…might help," Chase mutters as he takes the large pillow and slowly trudges back to his bedroom. As much as he wanted to stay up and converse with House and Wilson, his body was begging for some sleep as he hadn't had much in the way of quality rest in the past few days. All he wanted was to get a few quality hours of sleep. Tonight…that wish would be granted. For both Chase and House.

XXXXXXXX

"You look rested," House comments the following morning as he hands Chase a steaming mug of coffee.

"Slept better and the pillow…worked. Sorry to awaken you," Chase adds impishly as he slides into a tall kitchen chair on the other side of the counter of House.

"It was only once and it's getting better," House assures him as he puts a few eggs in the frying pan. "So…what's on the agenda for today?"

"Friday…just…aren't you getting bored not being back at work…you know menacing the team?" Chase playfully teases.

"I'm not the boss yet so I can stay home and menace you. Besides…Foreman knows and agrees."

"Willingly?" Chase retorts with a chuckle. "But…I wouldn't mind going home to check on the place…maybe get a few things."

"Sure…it's a nice day for a drive. Let's go."

Not suspecting anything other than a ride, Chase gets his jacket and slowly heads for the door, with a quiet House in tow. "Worries me when you're this quiet," Chase states with a small frown as they pull out of the parking lot.

"Lost in thought," House replies in truth as he heads for a certain location; his mind racing as to what Chase might think or how he'll react to what he has in mind. "Thought we'd have lunch at this little café down by the waterfront. Nice day to just…walk around and…"

"Lunch? It's only…" Chase stops as House brings the car to a stop. "What…House? Where are…" he starts and then stops as he quickly notices the signs on the professional building before him. "House…"

"It's best to talk about it while it's still fresh," House suggests as he slowly gets out and waits on the curb by the front of the car, his back to Chase and his gaze kept straight ahead. He waits for what seems like an eternity before the door slowly opens and Chase appears at his side. "I only want what's best for you and I know that's not me…in this regard. I can only offer so much."

"But…"

"Yes it will hurt and be uncomfortable and a bit painful…at first. But after you get it out and….trust me I know the doctor. He's a good man and will use the utmost discretion. If you don't get help, it will haunt you and slowly eat away at you in the dark or whenever and I don't want that to happen."

"But…" Chase tries to protest once more.

"I don't expect much. Just go in…and…"

"He's expecting me?" Chase asks in shock as House finally turns and looks at him directly.

"It's time to take back the future," House states pointedly. "Will you start today? Right here? Right now?"

* * *

 **A/N:** ah Chase you can't argue with House! So happy to hear you all are liking Kyle and Richard – me too, I think they add a bit more depth to the story. So will Chase actually go in for the session? A bit more to come here so please review before you go and thanks so much!


	16. Righting a few Wrongs

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 16 – Righting a few Wrongs**

* * *

Just before they reach the door to Connor's office, Chase stops and looks at House with a perplexed expression.

"You know what to expect," House tries to quickly assure him as he sees panic starting to build behind Chase's aquamarine orbs. "It's going to hurt at first to relive it all but it will help you in the long run. Letting go is important."

"And…if I can't…you know open up as much as he wants or…let go?" Chase asks weakly as he leans against the wall with a heavy sigh.

"Connor won't push you but he will be firm. Standing here with me won't accomplish much because I'm not going to let you get out of this."

"Can I bribe you?" Chase counters with a weak chuckle.

"Just try it. If you absolutely hate it then…you don't have to go back. And by hate I mean…after a day of processing and then working through…Robert, it's going to hurt. It was a horrible ordeal, reliving it will, in a word, suck, but it needs to be done. Please…for me? But technically…for you?"

Chase looks at House's soft, pleading expression and although his heart is racing at top speed, a little voice inside starts to nag him – _'this is what you need to do…- you know that.'_ and so he takes a deep breath, offers House a firm nod and then disappears into the professional office.

House's body, which had been standing firmly, sags against the wall and he shakes his head. "Damn boy…will be the death of my sanity," he whispers as he pulls away and slowly limps down the hallway. He'd wait outside and just hope and pray that Chase would be able to open up – even a little and that the darkness would start to fade – even a little.

XXXXXXXX

Chase enters the office and offers the assistant a timid smile and nervous wave as he approaches the desk; his eyes darting nervously around as if he was expecting something to jump out and surprise him. But nothing happens and he's merely ushered into the waiting office where a strange face, belonging to a man a bit older than him, turns to greet him with a friendly smile.

"Robert?"

"Doctor…Larson?" Chase replies with hesitation as he extends a somewhat shaky hand.

"Connor please. Let's sit," he entreats, leading them over to two comfortable chairs. "Never liked the desk/chair thing. Always seems too formal and stuffy for me."

"So House…I mean Dr. House arranged this?" Chase blurts out with a small frown.

"He said a friend who survived a horrible ordeal needed my help and was a bit reluctant to come in on his own. I'm assuming you're that friend?" Larson inquires as Chase nods. "And…he didn't give me any other details. Said you would…if you wanted."

"Never had the need of…well therapy before. Although with my childhood maybe I should have," Chase nervously stammers as he fidgets in his chair. "But we're not talking about that right?"

"Not specifically. This session is to get to know you and…and talk about current pain if you want. Don't want to dig up the past unless you want to."

"I was falsely arrested and attacked by…well two men in jail but then I was pulled out. House thinks I need therapy to tell someone else that so I did," Chase concludes with a small smile. "So…I told. We're done now?"

"Well…I got the gist," Larson replies with a friendly smile of his own. But a few seconds later his expression turns serious and Chase feels his anxiety starting to grow. "But I think we need to address a few important issues."

"Such as?"

"Such as how you're dealing with the memories of a complete loss of control and having to be forced to experience things that…well no man would want to willingly experience, unless that was their thing. In this case it wasn't so…"

"It sucked," Chase interjects with a small hiss. "Worst experience of my life," he adds as his body slightly sags back into the comfortable chair. "Worst."

"Okay."

A lump of emotion forms in Chase's throat as he looks up with a distressed expression.

"Reliving a personal horror is always hard at first but trust me…after you expel some of those emotions bottled up inside you'll start to feel better. At least…that's the goal. Baby steps at first okay? And if something is just too unbearable to talk about, we'll call it a day."

"Okay…" Chase agrees with some hesitation.

"Okay so…remember nothing can hurt you in here. You're safe and whatever you tell me…stays with me. No one, not even Dr. House will know, unless you want him to."

Chase looks at him and feels his fingers starting to tighten into tense balls, his heart rate starting to rise and his brain wondering if he'll even survive the session.

XXXXXXXX

House's fingers start to rap somewhat impatiently on the top of his cane as he sits on the somewhat uncomfortable bench in the lobby of the professional building; his eyes glancing down at his watch every few minutes. _What's he doing to my…MY?...my boy? No that's not..._

But just before his mind can trail off completely into despair, the elevator doors slowly hiss open and the object of his thoughts emerges. _Damn…looks like he's been put through the emotional ringer…_

"Hey…" Chase greets with a small smile as he slowly lowers himself down beside House, his eyes a bit Red rimmed; giving off visible evidence that the younger man had at least once…maybe twice or more expelled some fluid emotion.

"I won't ask for details. But I will ask…are you okay?"

"I uh…I will be," Chase nods as he keeps his watery gazed fixed straight ahead. "It was…horrible at first. Still uh…hurts somewhat."

"Will for a while but then…well I hope it gets better."

"Can we go?" Chase asks in haste.

"Yes…of course," House agrees as he slowly pushes himself upright. But just as Chase stands, his body falters and House is quick to extend his arms for Chase to grab onto and steady himself. Thankfully he doesn't pull down with all his weight and is able to remain upright and not cause either of them injury. "Robert…"

"I'm okay," Chase answers in haste as he offers House a tight lipped smile and then both slowly head for the front doors.

"Do you need another minute?" House inquires in concern as he looks over when Chase offers a small sniff and then tries to swallow.

"I'll be okay outside…let's just…can we walk a bit?"

"Course…any direction and then we'll stop for coffee wherever you want. The agenda for today is over."

 _House arranged that because he cares…_ Chase's mind reminds him in truth.

They walk along for a few minutes in silence before Chase glances sideways and offers in a quiet tone, "thank you."

"Anything for my boy," House whispers in return as his hand gives Chase's back a supportive pat.

XXXXXXXX

"Now you're gloating," Chase smiles as he offers a goofy grin to House's camera as the older man takes another selfie and sends it to his absent best friend. "Wilson is stuck at work."

"I don't feel sorry for him," House retorts in sarcasm.

"Obviously," Chase groans as he takes another sip of his crisp, white wine and leans back in his chair. They had walked slowly for a few hours, just casually talking about the area, the team, the weather…anything but Chase's ordeal; House purposely wanting to le the younger man's mind and heart have a break from some emotional interrogation.

When they had first started walking, Chase's conversation was slipped and consisted mostly of short, contrite sentences and tense glances. But after they had window shopped a bit, did some people watching, Chase's posture started to soften and his words were a bit lighter.

By the time they stopped for their late lunch, Chase's demeanor had almost done a complete 180. He was still a bit guarded and that was to be expected but at least there was some brightness to the younger man's eyes, the red had completely disappeared and he was offering some light jokes and genuine smiles.

After a few moments of silence Chase looks at House with a somewhat serious gaze and slightly purses his lips; his actions making House stop eating his dessert and look at him in wonder.

"I do feel…better."

"I'm glad."

"I think…sharing it with…a stranger was better. Wow that sounds odd," Chase nervously smirks as he glances away and then back at House.

"Sometimes it's easier to confess to a stranger because you know they don't know you personally and aren't judging you or…sounds silly right?"

"No….sounds just about right," House agrees as Chase's jaw softens. "I'm glad Connor could help."

"Can I ask how you know him?"

"You can ask anything?" House tosses back with a smirk.

"Right…doesn't mean I'm getting an answer right?" Chase groans as House winks.

"I guess you're not the only one that shares something with Dr. Larson."

"Okay….okay," Chase smiles as he finishes his dessert. After their lunch they slowly head back to their car and get in, Chase's mind a mix of fatigue and relief, his body wanting to just find a quiet room and have a restful sleep. And that's exactly what he does.

This time his sleep is restful; for both of them. For House also took advantage of the opportunity of Chase's silence and fell into a few hours of solid sleep himself.

XXXXXXXX

"Robert?"

"Hey Kyle," Chase greets his friend with a casual knock on his office door. "I was…I the neighborhood."

"Sure…come on in…it's…messy."

"Big trial coming up?" Chase nods toward the stack of files on the right end of the desk.

"Actually some cases that…I have a few I need to finish up, close properly. Get some closure all around."

"Sounds good. Speaking…of closure. I'd like to go and see Carlos. Just to…thank him in person."

"I get it. Yeah…course. Tomorrow? Or…today if…."

"Tomorrow is fine. I just wanted to …well get some closure all around."

"I get it," Kyle nods in agreement as Chase slumps down into the chair before him. "You look a bit more rested."

"Really? I uh…went and talked to someone this morning. More like House forced me," Chase states with a hint of bitterness before his face relaxes. "Well I was bitter at first. And now…I almost feel relieved. Silly right?"

"Not really. I uh…I've been there…only…mine was a bit worse," Kyle states somberly. "I was in a really dark place after it happened but Richard he helped me. Saved me really. When you first saw me…yeah I was drunk in the parking lot but…well the case I lost…it was one of…"

"Attackers?" Chase dares to interject.

"An accomplice. Felt defeated but then…well your case gave me a bit more renewed strength and…" Kyle pauses as he holds up a manila folder. "Richard rearrested him this morning and now I have fresh evidence and more impetus to put that bastard in jail. Get some closure all around," he concludes with a small smile.

"Good catch phrase," Chase agrees.

"I've got a bit of a break…wanna grab a coffee? There's a great place next door that offers all kinds of flavor fusions."

"Sounds good."

XXXXXXXX

"I should be mad…but I saw the note," House greets Chase as he enters the kitchen just before dinner.

"I just needed…"

"I'm not your jailer and while I might threaten you with a good grounding I'm not your…"

"Father?" Chase adds softly as House's brow furrows.

"How is Kyle?"

"He's fine. I'm going to see Carlos tomorrow. Just want to get some final closure and thank him."

"Makes sense," House agrees as he hands Chase a glass of dry white wine.

"Kyle told me a bit about his um…attack. Was a setup by a client and…was a lot worse than mine."

"Damn," House gently curses in an undertone as Chase nods in agreement.

"Then we went for coffee and talked about stuff. He likes the beach and we talked surfing and just…well…"

"Stuff," House nods as he sets out two plates. "Here…try this."

"Mmm good…what is it?"

"Duckling," House counters with a wink as Chase offers a mock expression. "Why do you think I'm trying to fatten you up?"

"Funny," Chase deadpans as he takes another bite. "But…it's really good."

"Good. Now tell me what else happened while I was sleeping."

Chase starts into his few hours outing and how it felt just to be out and about on his terms. At first he had looked over his shoulder a bit but after a while he started to relax and just enjoy the freedom of…. _'well being alive,'_ he had told House pointedly. He and Kyle had built on their budding friendship a bit more and talked about a round of golf with House and Richard in the near future; House pay rapt attention and not wanting to tell Chase that he had seen the ratty surfboard in his apartment and had already bought him a new one – that was down in storage.

But as Chase settled into his meal his mind kept trying to come up with an answer to this nagging question – _'am I really going back to my apartment tomorrow?'_

* * *

 **A/N:** Always tough to write the therapy sessions so I didn't want to go into too much but wanted to show that Chase was getting help and that he would consider going back to get some ongoing therapy and closure. Will Chase really move back to his apartment? And how will it go with Carlos? A bit more to come here before a happy ending so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	17. Where You Belong

**Title: Proving your Worth  
C** **hapter 17 – Where You Belong**

* * *

As much as he had told Kyle, House and himself that going to see Carlos would be a good idea, Chase had spent the night in contemplative misery and had finally awoken with a tight stomach and racing mind. But as he recalls his own words to Kyle about getting closure in all areas he knows this is just one more emotional hurdle that he has to jump over.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Not much," Chase confesses as he pours himself a warm mug of tea and then offers House a mug for himself to enjoy. "I had second thoughts this morning but know I have to do this. I need to thank him…"

"I know you do. Just tell me when you want to go."

"No…I've already put you out enough for this…" Chase starts as House holds up his hand to stop the younger man's speech.

"You're going to come out of that meeting emotionally charged like yesterday…eyes somewhat watery, heart racing, stomach tight and hands shaking."

"They weren't…they were shaking?" Chase asks weakly as House nods in agreement.

"Besides…I have nothing else better to do today," House states pointedly. "Tea is good."

"It's yours."

"I know," House grins.

During the remainder of breakfast their conversation is kept light as House doesn't want to add to Chase's emotional burden before another strained meeting. But much like Chase believes in his heart, House knows this will help him heal faster.

At least that was the plan and it sounded good spoken audibly. However, as soon as they near the correctional facility, House glances over and notices Chase's right hand start to curl tightly around the door handle and his jaw lock.

"This isn't the same place," House reminds him in truth.

"I can't…I can't go in there…." Chase's voice stammers as his lungs start to hyperventilate.

"Robert…" House interjects firmly as Chase looks over with a terrified gaze. "This isn't the same place you were taken to. It's a correctional facility and I'll be with you every step of the way."

Silence.

"Unless…you want to postpone this?" House gently suggests.

"No I need to do this…need to get over this hurdle."

"You'll do it for you with me at your side," House assures him as he pats his forearm and then offers him a comforting smile, or as comforting as it can be. "Come on…let's do this and then…we'll go find some ducklings to feed. Will make you feel better."

Chase gives House a nod and then both of them slowly get out of the car and head for the daunting facility's main entrance. Chase didn't try to deceive himself into thinking that this would be easy but as he walks side by side with House, he keeps telling himself that this is necessary.

His heart rate starts to rise a bit higher and his breathing starts to shallow but he keeps silently chanting over and over again _'this is something I need to do for closure…'_ praying that he'll start to believe it.

They enter into the administration area and check in, each of them slowly removing their personal items to put into little baskets for the duration of their visit with the inmate; a visit that Kyle had arranged and that Carlos had agreed to.

"Robert…"

"I'm okay," Chase whispers as he nods to House and then heads for the common meeting area. He steps inside and then freezes as he notices a few male faces, bodies clad in orange jumpsuits, pause and look up for a few seconds. _Oh bugger…_ he inwardly curses as House steps in behind him.

"Ignore them."

Chase tries to swallow back his emotion and at first is unable. But as soon as the men turn back to their current conversations, he's finally able to swallow and take a few more steps. He doesn't have to look for the empty table as he'd know Carlos's face anywhere. And he finally sees it.

This time, however, his agitation halts – refusing to go any further. The moment he had stepped into the room his mind was instantly filled with voices…words…screams and memories of his darkest hour. But when he saw Carlos and the calm but determined look on the older man's face, something inside reminded him that his mad risked his life to safe him and he would be safe – even now.

He takes a few more determined steps and makes it to the table. He was reminded that personal contact wasn't allowed so sadly he wasn't even able to offer that but he had brought a card that he showed with the guards outside and was permitted to bring inside.

The two of them sit down together, House at another table a few meters away.

"Hello," Chase greets nervously.

"Hey," Carlos nods and offers his version of a friendly smile. "Relax kid…" he says in a tone that Chase can't help but smile at and continue to slowly feel at ease.

"I am not allowed to shake your hand but I wanted to thank you for uh…saving my life," Chase offers softly as he slowly passes the un-enveloped card across the table.

"Something I had to do…hows your old man with all this?" Carlos nods to House.

"He's relieved that men like you risk your life for others," House replies with a firm smile. "Can't ever thank you enough."

"And I hear I owe you some thanks also for helping me get a reduced sentence."

"Least I could do. Kyle told me what you were in for and I uh…well I'm sorry about your son."

"Thank you."

The two of them make small talk a bit longer, Carlos telling Chase his plans for when he'd get out and Chase telling him to drop by PPTH so they could have that official hand shake and maybe a cup of coffee. Carlos agreed. And the meeting that had started out so strained and full of dread ended with a lightened heart and a mind full of hope.

"Proud of you," House comments to Chase in a quiet tone as they slowly head toward House's car in the sunny parking lot.

"Proud of me too," Chase agrees softly his eyes slightly wet but mostly from happy emotion. "I'm glad that Kyle is helping Carlos. I hope he's able to get his life back in order."

"I hope that too."

XXXXXXXX

After a fun outing to the park and another enjoyable lunch, they head to Chase's apartment, where Chase had told himself that he just wanted to get a few things and then… _go back to House's? You know…you don't live there…this is home…not there!_ But as soon as Chase steps into his quiet and somewhat musty smelling apartment, his agitation starts to soar even higher than it did when he stepped into the prison common area.

House notices but doesn't want to call Chase on it because he knows if he does…the younger man might go into defensive mode and tell him that he's okay to stay on his own just to prove something – to himself.

Chase pulls away from House and heads into his bedroom and then stops; his heart thumping painfully in his chest. _This is home…you faced a few important hurdles and now you need to face this one…you need to come back home – permanently._

"Robert?"

With his back still to House, Chase feels his shoulders slightly slump as his name is left to hung in the stillness of the room.

"This is one more hurdle…" Chase starts in a soft tone. "This is my home right? Not fair for me to keep mooching off you…doesn't feel right."

"I can charge you a rent fee," House retorts lightly as Chase turns and looks back at him with a tormented frown. "How about you play it by ear. You've had another emotionally heavy day and I don't think you should be here alone…tonight."

 _House is right but you still need to overcome this on your own._

"Okay," Chase agrees with a small smile as he gathers up a few new personal items and then heads into his bathroom to get a few new items and then rejoins House in the hallway to leave. House had suggested staying if he so wanted but Chase countered saying if they stayed…he might just dare himself to stay and he was already getting jittery.

But that night House can tell that Chase's mind is elsewhere as he picks at his food and then only adds a few lame comments on the show they watch before he retires to his room with a small 'goodnight'.

"He was…withdrawn tonight. The meeting with Carlos went so good and I think he thought he could just stay at home or…I don't know what the hell he's thinking," House huffs as he talks to Wilson later that same night.

 _"Well…he does have his own place," Wilson gently reminds him. "Of course he'll feel a bit of guilt going back there today and then leaving."_

"He's not ready to be on his own just yet…" House insists as he closes his eyes and rubs his face. "Maybe I'm overly paranoid."

 _"You've been with him since day one….it's understandable you're a bit more worried than normal."_

"Worried…why the hell am I even worried," House grumbles. "He's grown man and…I'll see what happens tomorrow."

 _"Just…play it by ear…no pressure on either side."_

"Right…thanks."

House hangs up with Wilson but remains seated in the quiet, dimly lit living room as his mind tries to process the fact that soon his apartment could be a bit emptier than it is now; maybe sooner than wanted or expected. "Don't want him to go…" he whispers as he flips off the final light, the apartment goes dark and he tries to get his mind to switch off for at least a few hours of solid rest.

XXXXXXXX

 _'Can I take him home?'_

House recalls Chase's boyish smile asking about the duckling that was eating out of his hand as the two of them enjoyed an outing at the park right in front of the duck pond. _This isn't his home…you know that…he has to get over his fear of being in his home alone…you can't hold him back…_

House lies awake in bed early the next day, his mind echoing the same sentiments as Chase – he needs to overcome the hurdle of being in his apartment alone. _Just don't push him either way…if he wants to leave…let him go. You will see him again!_

So with that somewhat sobering thought in his head, House gets up, heads into the kitchen and gets the coffee started. Chase stumbles into the kitchen about twenty minutes later and plunks himself down onto the tall kitchen chair and gratefully accepts the steaming mug of coffee.

"Got a text from Richard…he'd like to have us over for a casual barbeque."

"Really? Yeah that'd be great," Chase eagerly accepts as House looks at him in wonder. "Of course…if you want to," he stammers his reply as House's lips twist upward into a large smile. "Damn poker face," Chase grumbles as House snickers and then puts a plate of fresh fruit into the middle of the table. "But…you said yes right?"

"Course I said yes," House answers in truth. "They…live together. Well Kyle has a basement suite."

"I know," Chase states softly. "Kyle told me. That's…great."

"It is. Here try this," House hands Chase a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Mmm it's…what's in it?"

"Lobster."

"Lobster scrambled eggs?" Chase asks weakly as House nods. "Are you trying to spoil me?" He asks again as House once again nods in agreement. "It's…working."

"Course it is," House replies proudly.

"You know…those containers on your balcony. You could plant some great herbs in them."

"Good idea. I'll buy the potting soil and you buy whatever seeds you want."

Chase's mind starts to churn with ideas about what kinds of herbs they'd like to cook with and then after dinner they spent their leisurely Saturday going to a few garden centers picking up a few more pots, some soil, seeds and a few other items they'd need to cultivate their apartment container garden.

"So easy even you'll be able to look after them without too much fuss," Chase smirks as he teases House later that same day, after a nice casual dinner. But as soon as he utters those words…a sad sense of loneliness starts to settle upon them and House is quick to change the channel which instantly changes the conversation but the somewhat sullen mood lingers.

After Chase had bid his goodnight, he sits in his spare bedroom with a small frown, looking around the sparse surroundings and telling himself he needs to try to jump over the next hurdle – _you need to spend a night alone in your apartment._

And with that he gets up, grabs his bag and then disappears into the night.

House had heard a door closing but thought at first it was the bathroom door. However about twenty minutes later he tells himself something is wrong and slowly gets up. But as soon as he gets into the hallway he sees that something indeed is wrong – the bathroom is open but Chase's room is empty.

He picks the note up off the bed and feels his heart sink.

 _'I have to jump this last hurdle alone. I'm sorry.'_

"My boy…" House offers a whispered lament as he turns and limps back to his bedroom, slumping down into the darkness – in misery. "He's….gone."

XXXXXXXX

"I can do this…" Chase tells himself as he walks into his bedroom and gets into bed. "I have to…this is my home and…" he pauses as he listens to the growing silence. "I can do this…"

But about an hour later Chase's mind forces him awake with a nightmare and he bolts upright in bed. However, no one comes to see if he's okay. There isn't House asking if he needs some water or… _you became dependent on that affection? No…he doesn't care about me…House doesn't care about…did he care about me?_

Chase finally realizes the truth – House wanted him there because…he does care for him. _I care for him too…_ his mind silently acknowledges.

 _Then…what on earth are you still doing here?_

House rolls over onto his other side for the hundredth time and looks at the clock in anger. He finally flops onto his back and then stops…and listens…"what the…" he mutters as he slowly sits upright.

Another knock is heard and he's quick to push himself out of bed and hurry down the hallway. He pulls it open and before Chase can say sorry for waking House at such a late hour, House gives him a fatherly hug and whispers…

" _welcome home"_

* * *

 **A/N:** well….i am sorry that I failed so many on this story and had hoped that my own unique twist would have kept readers around longer but to the four that reviewed the last update thanks so much. As my heart has totally left this story a happy ending is up next so please do review before you go and thanks so much.


	18. The Future is looking Bright (Epilogue)

**Title: Proving your Worth  
** **Chapter 18 – The Future is looking Bright (Epilogue)**

 **A/N:** Well we have reached the end of this little journey. To all who faithfully reviewed thanks so much. To you selfish lurkers…well no thanks to you but to those without accounts – **Rei, shooting2stars, Allie** and various **guests** thank you as well for your support and reviews – meant a lot. Hope you all like this happy little ending. Enjoy!

* * *

That night, despite the earlier emotional stress that accompanied him when he had gone home and tried to sleep in his own bed, now sleeping in the spare bedroom in House's apartment puts his mind and heart at ease and he sleeps soundly through the night.

But for House it was actually somewhat bittersweet. He had delighted when he opened the door and saw Chase standing there and warmly welcomed him _'home_ '. A word he meant as soon as he uttered it and hoped the younger man would cherish it just as much. However, as he thinks about it now…he knows the small spare bedroom would be inadequate going forward. He knows Chase won't complain as he wanted to belong to someone…be a part of a family setting that welcomed him with open arms. He knows he provides that as he wants the same in return from the younger man.

 _Richard and Kyle share a home…separate dwellings…each with their own, comfortable space but never really alone._

And that idea made him smile and put his mind at ease and settled in his heart that he would mention it to Chase in the next few days and then make a plan going forward. The future for both of them was looking brighter already.

XXXXXXXX

Despite the somewhat bleak surroundings, Chase awakens the next morning feeling refreshed and with a sense of belonging. Sleeping here had felt so right and even though he didn't need House's emotional comfort in the middle of the night, just knowing it was there…it was close…comforted him in ways he couldn't verbally quantify.

 _But…_ his brain somberly reminds him… _you have an apartment and things and…_ his mind trails off as he hears House shuffling at the end of the hallway and can't help but smile. The fatherly hug followed by silence was what comforted him most when he came back in the middle of the night. _He didn't scold…didn't question…didn't just or say I told you so…just welcomed me back…_

"home," Chase finishes his thought with a verbal whisper and then slowly sits upright. He looks at the silly little rubber ducky on the bedside table and can't help but smile. "We're home…"

 _But home…it can be where the ducky is…where House is…maybe you two can…_ but the thought stops there as he's not sure if should even dare to ask House if he would think about moving to a shared accommodation – one a big bigger…maybe something along the same setup that Richard and Kyle had.

 _Should I chance to ask?_

He shelves that for now as the smell of freshly brewed coffee calls to him and literally leads him into the kitchen like a drone under a spell.

"Smells good," Chase greets with a wide smile as he eases himself down into one of the tall counter kitchen chairs.

"Hazelnut toffee," House reads the label as he passes the little jar of milk across the counter.

"My guilty pleasure," Chase smiles as he takes a few sips and then leans back on the chair and looks up at House with a small frown. "I tried…I wanted to conquer that hurdle."

"You not being able to live alone isn't the problem…it's do you _want_ to live alone? I have no doubt if you forced yourself you could. But do you _want_ that?" House asks pointedly. "You don't have to if you don't want to. No one is going to judge you or think less and if they do then they'd have issues with other things and really their narrow minded opinion shouldn't count for much."

"I like it here…" Chase starts and then pauses as he looks back down at his coffee.

"But it's not enough…space? Or have enough of your personal items."

"I like the set up that Richard and Kyle have," Chase states somewhat suddenly, at least in his mind it was out of the blue. However, House qualifies his verbal sentiments with similar of his own.

"I do too."

"You do?" Chase looks up with a surprised smile.

"Yes. And if that's something that you might want to consider then…I'd be open to considering it also. I wasn't sure you wanted to give up your independence."

"Kyle has that. He has a basement suite but…"

"At least they don't have to be alone," House concludes as Chase nods.

"Can we start looking for a place of our own?" Chase asks with an eager smile. The boyish enthusiasm that comes across all but clouds out the dark reason Chase was living with him in the first place. How could he say no?

"Of course," House replies with a kind smile. But before Chase's enthusiasm could burst forth, he adds… "but," and Chase's expression droops. However…not for too long, "after all the breakfast is eaten."

Chase literally exhales and snickers before he nods in agreement and then settles into the rest of his breakfast. With a few important things already accomplished and few new future goals yet to see fulfilled, the morning starts off with a comforting mood. And it only grows from there.

After they're done, they pile into House's car and pick up Wilson and the three of them head down to the boardwalk and enjoy the fresh salty air mixed with the smell of fried potatoes and cotton candy. The conversation is light and enjoyable and helps to strengthen the already strong bond the three of them happily share.

Wilson of course was all in favor of them finding a place together and said if it works out so well, he might even consider moving closer…but then after some friendly hazing decided against it.

"Chicken," House bantered back.

"Better a chicken than a squab," Wilson retorts as Chase's brow gently furrows.

"Squab?"

"A small wild chicken," House replies flatly as Wilson nods in agreement.

"Sounds tasty," Chase grins as he steers the three of them toward a fried chicken stand.

House didn't want to complain as for the past few weeks the younger man hadn't eaten much of anything and had become to lean in his opinion. But he couldn't blame him and didn't want to harp or nag more than necessary. But now things were starting to look more positive for him…for them both and good habits were starting to come to the fore. That was eating regular and hearty meals.

The three of them take their food to a nearby picnic table and then sit down to enjoy some greasy fair.

"And for dessert…funnel cake."

"Fully loaded funnel cake!" Chase adds to Wilson's suggestion as House merely shakes his head.

"Come on squab…I'll get you one too."

"Only he could call me that and still remain alive," House mocks as Chase laughs. "How about squab flavored funnel cake?"

The silly banter continues as the three of them slowly walk down the boardwalk toward the stand that was selling the sinfully delightful and very decadent deserts. Each of them gets a container full of sugary goodness and then slowly walks toward some of the whirling amusements at the other end of the boardwalk. Chase's eyes widen with enthusiastic excitement as they near, but Wilson can only chuckle when House gently scolds Chase for wanting to attempt a spinning ride when he literally just took his last bit of dessert.

"I wouldn't really feel sorry for you as you are old enough to know better, I'd feel sorry for the recipients of your projectile vomiting."

"Thanks…I just ate," Wilson groans in sarcasm.

"That's the point."

"Point…taken," Chase resigns as they continue up the boardwalk to an area that held the lame and mostly rigged games. But each of them take turns on various types of games, winning a few trinkets that would most likely end up in the garbage. But when Chase wins a larger yellow stuffie duck, he latches onto the little toy and promises to never throw it away.

They finally leave the boardwalk area and continue to slowly walk back to their car before piling in and heading for Wilson's for dinner. The evening comes to an enjoyable close with some strong coffee and a silly movie. That night Chase peacefully sleeps with the large yellow duck stuffie tucked in his grasp.

XXXXXXXX

The following Monday, Chase enters PPTH with a small sense of apprehension. But his brain reminds him that Dibala, Ntiba and anyone associated with either of them is either dead or on the other side of the world – literally and he's safe to resume his duties as he did before the whole horrible incident took place.

"Hey…welcome back!" Taub claps Chase on the back as he enters House's office that morning for their regular daily team meeting.

The story about the mugging had stood and since Chase didn't have to testify openly about anything regarding his assault, the story would stand and none of the team would ever learn of the darkness that Chase had to endure and then face – thankfully not fully alone.

He would still get a small twinge of anxiety the first few times he went into Dibala's room, the area where he watched the cruel dictator take his last breath but that would soon dissipate and be a distant memory. One he wouldn't care to bring up unless prodded – and House had promised that prodding wouldn't come from him.

House would soon be back in charge of his team and continue his good natured ribbing at work and Chase would just resigned himself to the fact that he was the boss's favorite and damn anyone who would complain about it or try to usurp that position.

After work each day, Chase was slowly putting some of his things into storage and leaving a few things at House's and then they'd take a drive around an area to see if they liked it and scope out future homes. They finally settle on one not far from the area Richard and Kyle live in and closer to Wilson and work than expected; Wilson still remaining firm in his stance that he was going to live in his 'stylin' bachelor pad' and be done with it. He of course endured some good natured ribbing at his expense.

"Okay…smile," House instructs Chase as the younger man positions himself beside the 'SOLD' sign of their new home.

"Okay…my turn," Chase states as he hurries to switch places and then takes a picture of House. "This House is great!"

"A new start…for a new family."

"Are you going to adopt me?" Chase asks in a teasing tone as they slowly walk up the steps.

"I already have…the day you started with me."

Chase looks at House and offers him a kind smile before he opens his arms and offers him a hug followed by a whispered thank you.

House pats him tenderly on the back before they both go inside to inspect their new surroundings. Dinner time that night, despite the lack of furniture, they'd eat in their new home, talking about how they were going to decorate and when they'd have Richard, Kyle and Wilson over for their own barbeque.

XXXXXXXX

"Hey…welcome," Richard greets House and Chase a few days later, on the weekend.

"Great place you have here," House replies as he gives Richard's hand a firm shake; Chase pushing past him with an arm full of beer, bread and some brownies that House had made.

"Love the deck," Chase tells Kyle as he enters the kitchen, unloads the items and then takes a beer and heads onto the back deck to just hang before dinner. The two younger men slowly head toward the edge of the deck, beer in hand and then lean against the railing looking out into the somewhat spacious backyard.

"Got your text…glad you won your case," Chase starts as he clinks the top of his beer bottle with Kyle. "Must have felt good."

"Felt great to be back in the right saddle again but yeah…when the judge handed down sentence on him," Kyle pauses, referring to the last of his attacker's that had escaped incarceration last time, "it felt better than I thought it would."

"Final closure all around," Chase whispers as Kyle nods in agreement.

"So…do you…double date?"

"Why?" Chase asks in hesitation.

"One of the lawyers in my building…I asked her out but she mentioned to me her friend is…I have a picture," Kyle pauses as he pulls his phone.

"Not bad…at all," Chase grins as he nods in agreement. "Never have before but why not give it a try. Double date it is."

"Great…"

"What do you think those two are planning?" Richard asks in amusement as he and House watch Chase and Kyle shake hands on something and then laugh.

"World domination," House retorts as he takes another swig of his beer and grins.

"So…how did your own house hunting go?"

"Was a success," House starts as the two of them slowly head out onto the deck and join the younger men, the four of them sitting down at the patio table to talk about House and Chase's new home and just work and life in general. Pretty soon the steaks were tossed onto the hot grill and the smell in the air went from fresh grass to cooking meat and the appetites ramped up as well.

The rest of the evening would progress at an enjoyable rate and by the time it was over, a few other plans were made, the double date was set, friendships were further cemented and a few father/son bonds were strengthened.

After they get home, House locks the back door and flips off the light. He slowly heads down stairs to check the back door, telling himself that Chase isn't that careless but now he'd worry more about the person most precious to him asleep in the lower part of their new home.

He pauses in Chase's bedroom doorway and casts a smile as he sees the ducky stuffie in Chase's grasp while he sleeps, soundly – or so he thinks.

House walks away and whispers, "goodnight my boy," thinking it wasn't heard. But it is and a a soft voice in dark replies, "goodnight dad."

The lights go out on both and despite the comforting darkness, the future was looking bright…for all of them.

 **THE END!**

* * *

 **A/N:** Wanted to go out on a happy ending so hope you all liked this conclusion and please do leave a final review before you go and thanks so much! And this will be the final story in this fandom- at least for the near future.


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